


Beneath the Lies

by JayceCarter



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Lies, Love/Hate, Not Canon Compliant, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-18 23:58:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 40,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10627899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Nora rescues an injured man from a crashed vertibird and agrees to help him back to the Boston Airport in exchange for hefty amount of caps. Of course, as a heavy for the railroad, she had to keep the man at an arms distance. Arthur Maxson is injured after the accident and must rely on the strange woman for help. He has to lie to her about his identity and history for both of their safety.As they continue their trip and grow closer, the lies they've told weigh on them. What is real and what is just a part of the game they're both playing? When everything comes to light, and they find themselves on opposite sides of a war, can they overcome the distance, or will they find nothing real beneath the lies?





	1. Chapter 1

The flames drove Nora back, but the moan of an occupant drew her into the wreckage. Steel twisted, forming cages that caught her clothing as she slithered through them.

 

Leave it to the brotherhood to think flying around on 200-year-old machines made for great planning. Taking one look at the crumbling towers, the rusted carcasses of cars, and you should know things didn’t last forever.

 

The four bodies she’d found outside the vehicle seemed to have bailed during the crash, and no amount of stimpacks were putting them back together. Nora would have called the whole thing a loss if not for the sounds of at least one more person still stuck inside.

 

Stupid planning or not, Nora wasn’t about to let them roast inside that death trap, crashed outside Oberland Station.

 

Dead bodies attracted wild dogs.

 

Nora laughed at her own joke as she maneuvered through the steel. She hissed when a sharp edge of wreckage tore past her armor and sliced her thigh. Great, because tetanus sounded amazing.

 

Why was she even helping the fucking Brotherhood? After her one run in with Paladin Hard Ass, she’d sworn them off. Still, if she knew one thing about herself, it was to never believe a single promise she’d made.

 

She lied to everyone, but no one more than herself.

 

There, at the back, Nora spotted a body, face down. The man was huge, flannel shirt blackened, ripped, and bloody. He moaned incoherently, lifted his body, but fell back down.  Well, he was in one piece. Guess that meant she had to help him.

 

“You know, rescues might go better if you didn’t resemble a bear.” Nora leaned down and wrapped an arm around his waist, sliding his arm over her shoulders. “This would be a cinch if you weighed fifty pounds less.”

 

Moving him was slow, and they didn’t have time for slow. Nora yanked, feet sliding against the steel, struggling for purchase. He hissed against the pulling, but she didn’t slow. Pain was better than death. The vertibrid groaned, flames crawling along any surface it could gain a footing. Nora’s cheeks burned, the heat making drawing breaths harder. Smoke consumed the oxygen until she coughed, lungs spasming, but still she pulled the man toward the opening.

 

“Could you fucking help? What are all those muscles for if you don’t fucking use them!”

 

The yelling must have jogged something loose, because the man got his feet beneath him and helped. She still took most of his weight, but the moving went quicker. Nora finished getting him out of the vertibird, and they collapsed into the dirt.

 

Fuck this whole idea. The next time people wanted to crash outside her front door, she wasn’t doing shit but roasting marshmallows.

 

Well, finding marshmallows first, roasting them. How long did marshmallows last, anyway?

 

She rolled over to check on the injured man and stared down the barrel of his pistol.

 

#

 

Arthur Maxson had heard the tales of his family line since before he could walk. He knew the things expected of him, of all Maxsons, and dying in a vertibird crash on a bullshit mission wasn’t among them.

 

His arm shook. Pain tore through his leg, which had to be broken, and danced along the burns over his skin. Even if he pulled the trigger, hitting her would be a miracle. He tried to force his head to think, his body to obey. He had a great destiny, and dying in the filth of the commonwealth couldn’t end it.

 

“Well that’s a shitty way to say thank you,” the woman in front of him mumbled as she eyed a wound on her thigh, like his gun meant nothing to her. “I liked these pants. Finding pants that fit isn’t as easy as it used to be. Not to mention it's not like I can just run them over to a tailor. Fuck, what I wouldn't give for a tailor.”

 

“Who are you?” He tried to focus on the girl and ignore her rambling. She wore mismatched light armor, all strung over a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, cheeks flushed from the heat. If he ran into her anywhere else, he’d assume she was a scavenger, and probably suggest someone watch her to ensure she didn’t steal anything.

 

“Me? I’m just the idiot who pulled your ass out of a burning vertibird. You don’t like it? I won’t stop you if you want to crawl back inside. Feel free.” She held her hand out toward the wreckage like welcome sign.

 

The shaking in his arm worsened and his head spun. Had he hit his head, too? If he’d been in his uniform, he’d have a stimpack in his coat. In this damned disguise, he had nothing. Being unprepared annoyed him. Brotherhood soldiers were never unprepared.

 

But that had been the trade-off. In order to go, Captain Kells wanted him dressed down. Making a target of himself was unwise, a tactical mistake that would alert enemies of his presence. Arguing with that logic would have been foolish. So instead, he’d dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, the uniform of the unimportant.

 

The mission had been straight forward. Head to Diamond City, scope out the city. Maxson hadn’t been needed, but wanted to go because the Prydwen’s walls had started to close in after such a long journey, and he needed a break. The small squad had planned to land to the west of the City, in a clearing, then all approach in normal clothing, to blend in.

 

Blending in wasn’t likely now, with the crashed vertibird sending up plumes of smoke. He wanted to plan, to figure out what he’d do, but his mind refused to work. Thoughts drifted away before he could grasp them, before he could shape them into a workable plan.

 

“Blood loss is a bitch, buddy. You’re gonna go ahead and pass out in, oh-” she bobbed her head around like doing long division. “-maybe a minute? So, if you want to shoot me, might want to try it before then.”

 

“Should I shoot you?”

 

She held her hand out flat, inspecting her nails. What the hell was wrong with this girl? “I probably would if I were you, but I’m not great at making friends. Go on, buddy, let the darkness take you. I promise not to molest you too much while you’re under.”

 

Arthur struggled against it, but it drug him to unconsciousness, leaving his future, and that of the Brotherhood, in the hands of the infuriating and confusing stranger.


	2. Chapter 2

 

Arthur woke with a gasp, sitting up and reaching for the pistol he always kept beneath his pillow.

 

But he wasn’t in his bed. He knew it by the stillness of the ground. It had been so long since he’d slept anywhere but the Prydwen, he’d grown used to the constant rocking of the ship. The motion that had made him sick for the first month had turned reassuring, and he missed it.

 

“Yeah, I took the gun away.”

 

He frowned, trying to focus until he spotted the woman who had spoken. “You saved me.” The words came out more like an accusation than a thank you.

 

“I did.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I dislike the smell of roasted flesh and you were upwind. Now, who are you?”

 

Arthur answered with ease, having figured out an answer to that a long time before. When in enemy hands, never give the truth, never give anything they can use against you. Learning to operate in enemy territory was standard Brotherhood training. “Brad Carter.”

 

“Well, Brad Carter, what is a civilian doing on a Brotherhood vertibird? They don’t usually taxi people around for fun or out of the kindness of their metal little hearts. You aren’t in a jumpsuit, no holotags, no power armor, so Brad, what’s your story?”

 

He frowned, annoyed that she’d searched him. He patted at his clothing and realized he’d been stripped, only a filthy blanket over him.

 

“Yeah, I checked. I said I wouldn’t molest you much, not that I wouldn’t at all.”

 

The girl was insane. There was no other explanation for her. He’d guess radiation or chems had rotted her brain away, or perhaps it was just from the stress of living out here.

 

“I’m a farming expert they brought in from the Capital Wasteland. They needed some advice on setting up crop rotations.”

 

“The Brotherhood farms now? I thought they’d be content threatening farms into ‘donating’ their crops.” The woman set her feet up on the table beside where she sat, crossing her arms, staring at him with a scrutiny that reminded him to keep his head in the game. She was looking for holes in his story, and he guessed she’d be good at finding them.

 

“I’m going to guess procuring enough supplies became problematic, thus why they hired me. Growing your own food is always better than relying on farms. Have your troops starving a few times and you realize that an army marches on its stomach.” Arthur tried to move his leg, but pain shot up, past the hip. He hissed, clutching the spot in a tight grip that might leave fresh bruises.

 

“Yeah, you’re not going to be going anywhere for a while. I gave you a stimpack, and that leg, hip combo is healing, but it’s going to take a few weeks before you’re doing whatever the fuck it is you do.”

 

Unacceptable. He couldn’t lounge around for a few weeks. The smoke grenades had surly burned up in the crash, so he had no way to signal for transport. Worse, the missile that struck their vertibird couldn’t have been an accident. The hit landed when they crossed a mountain, and no line of sight would have allowed for such a precise shot.

 

It meant someone knew they were coming, and only the Brotherhood had known. Arthur couldn’t afford to run around looking for patrols, not this far away from his support. Who knew who had sold him out, who was trying to kill him. Arthur hadn’t made it as Elder by ignoring his instincts, and his instincts said he needed to be very careful.

 

He needed to get to the Boston Airport as soon as possible and figure out who had set him up.

 

“I need to go to the Boston Airport.”

 

She whistled low, mocking him. “What a work ethic. Why are you in such a hurry to get back to them? Brotherhood I’ve met haven’t been the sort I’d be in a rush to see again.”

 

 He wondered what run-in she’d had, because she sure had a bad view of them. Then again, that often happened. People didn’t like what saved them, didn’t like the medicine that kept them from dying. “Because they have the only reliable way back to the Capital Wasteland. If I go and finish my work, they’ll get me home and back to my family.”

 

Her face softened, and he tucked away that tidbit. Family was a weakness for her.

 

“Well, I’m sorry Brad, but you’re not exactly up for the trek. You can barely walk let alone fight, and trust me, the trip there requires a lot of fighting. You want to try and make it there, I’m not about to stop you, but I’m telling you now, it’s a suicide mission.”

 

“There must be someone I can hire. I have to get there, as quickly as possible.”

 

“Maybe, but it would cost you. Help like that doesn't come cheap.”

 

“Caps aren’t an issue, as long as I have a capable guide.”

 

The woman tapped a nail against her bottom lip. “A thousand caps. That’s the price, and for that, I can assure you, you’ll have a hell of a guide.”

 

A thousand? Hell, he’d have paid five times that to get there without blinking. Go cheap and you were as likely to get yourself killed by your employee. “You’re sure he’ll be capable? I don’t want to pay for someone who will get me killed half-way there. I’m not looking for a bargain basement mercenary.”

 

“A thousand caps will buy you something a little better than a bargain basement mercenary.”

 

He hated relying on civilians, but sometimes you had to take what you could get. “Fine. When will we leave?”

 

She pointed at his hip. “You’re going to need tonight to rest up. I’ll send your charming, wonderful, astounding guide by in the morning, and I suggest you look plenty impressed when they get there. I’ve heard they’re difficult, but the best always are.”

 

She stood to leave, but Arthur stopped her. “What’s your name?”

 

“Nora.”

 

“Thank you, Nora. I know you didn’t have to pull me out, and I repaid you by pulling a gun on you.”

 

She shrugged. “Not sure I’ve met anyone who hasn’t pulled a gun on me. It’s pretty much the wasteland handshake. Now, get some sleep, Brad. The trip isn’t going to be easy.”


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur grit his teeth as he tried to put weight on his bad leg. Don’t show weakness, don’t show pain. He’d managed to dress himself in the clothing someone had left him, managed to pull himself out of the shelter and to the fence line, but his body was starting to rebel against anymore.

 

His hip screamed at him every time he put weight on that side. He could hardly make it a few feet, how would he get to the airport?

 

“Hey idiot, why don’t you try this?” Nora walked up from behind him and held out a crutch. “Unless you think what you’ve got going on there is working for you. I mean, I’m willing to watch. No TV means I’ll accept other forms of entertainment.”

 

He hated to admit it, but she was right. He took the crutch and slid it beneath his arm, his body easing the moment weight came off the bad leg. “Thank you.”

 

“Gratitude is like pulling teeth for you, isn’t it?”

 

He refused to answer that. “Where is my guide?”

 

“You’re looking at her. Ta-da!” Nora put her arms out and spun once before bowing.

 

“You? You’re joking, right?”

 

“Not even a little bit. Believe it or not, I’m rather handy.”

 

“Yeah, you don’t strike me as all that handy.”

 

She grinned. “Well, that’s because you didn’t feel what I did to you while you were unconscious.”

 

Arthur groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “There has got to be someone else who can take me. You seem the sort who still requires adult supervision.”

 

“I’m older than I look, trust me.” Her smile slid off her face then, growing serious. “Look, buddy, I’m the best you’re going to get. And yes, I don’t seem particularly capable, I am aware. However, you’re not going to find anyone else willing to wander into Brotherhood territory for you, even for a thousand caps. So you’ve got me, or you can sit your pretty ass here until you heal. Your choice.”

 

Arthur grit his teeth, keeping all the things he wanted to snap in his head. He wanted to remind her he was Arthur Maxson and that no one would dare tell him to sit his pretty ass anywhere. But, he couldn’t say that. Neither option was great. However, even with his leg, he was a good shot. If they were careful, took the best routes, well hell, he fought a deathclaw and lived. He could survive the little hellcat in front of him.

 

“Fine. Let’s go.”

 

#

 

Nora twirled a pipe she’d found, energized by the absolute loathing of the man behind her. What was it about being hated that made her want to skip?

 

The going was slow, even worse since Brad didn’t want any help. She’d stopped offering after the first scathing glares, content to just watch him struggle over obstacles. He was stubborn, that much was clear.

 

He also was used to being in charge, or in some higher rung of society. He reminded her of the upper stands assholes in Diamond City, all so sure of their own superiority, even though they bled and died like the everyone else. Nora could tell in the way he spoke to her, that annoyance in his voice that said he never had to repeat himself.

 

He must be a pretty big expert for the Brotherhood to put up with behavior like that.

 

Dogmeat yipped at her, trotting along beside her. At least someone there liked her. She reached over and scratched him behind his ear.

 

Nora had tried to travel with people, but it never worked out. They always had opinions about something she did, always wanted her to change. Worse, every single asshole had complained about her picking up scrap. Sure, they loved when she turned it into beds and gun mods, but they still bitched at every little thing she picked up.

 

So Dogmeat became her go to traveling companion.

 

As the hours drug on, and the sun started to dip behind the mountains, Brad slowed. He tripped over a branch and righted himself against a tree, sweat over his brow.

 

She wanted to get to Diamond City, but with the speed they were making, that wasn’t happening tonight.

 

“Just ahead we can stop for the night.”

 

“I don’t need to stop.” The words came out on heavy pants, drenched in pain. He was stubborn, she’d give him that.

 

“Yeah, you do. I hauled your ass once, I’m not doing it again. Dragging around three hundred pounds of muscle isn’t worth a thousand caps.” She paused, then smiled. “Though, you might offer better conversation unconscious.”

 

“I am not three hundred pounds.”

 

“Three-fifty. Whatever. Not that I’m complaining, as long as I don’t have to haul it, it makes for nice eye candy. And, I suppose, if you passed out again I could have my own fun." She smiled over her shoulder at him. "Come on, the place it just ahead. Safe, boring, filled with assholes. You’ll feel right at home.”

 

Brad said nothing else as they made it up the hill, all his focus seeming to be on keeping himself upright. At least once they got inside the cave, he had the railing to hold on to and steady himself with.

 

“A vault?”

 

“Good old Vault 81. I have friends here.”

 

“You have friends?”

 

“Friends is a looser term than it used to be. I helped them out once and they gave me a room as a thank you. Vaults aren’t my idea of a great time, but you need to get off your leg if we want to make it to Diamond City by tomorrow. At least in there, only stupidity can kill us.”

 

Brad let out an unkind laugh. “Yeah, traveling with you means stupidity getting me killed is exactly what I’m worried about.”

 

Nora waved at the guard at the end of the walkway. “Hello.”

 

“Staying out of trouble, I trust?”

 

“Me? Always. Took a new job as a tour guide for entitled assholes. Let me know if you’re interested.”

 

Brad and the guard groaned from behind her, then shared a look of exasperation. Nora took the whole exchange as a win and lead the way to her room.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Arthur took a deep breath as he settled onto the bed. Getting off the leg was heaven. The pain had grown to the point that he didn’t fully recognize how bad it had gotten until it started to ease.

 

“Med-x?” Nora held up a syringe.

 

“No. I don’t take chems.” Not for a long time, at least. But she didn’t need to know that, didn’t need to know the years he’d spent on them, the way he’d suffered through withdrawal, even with addictol. “But I’ll take another stimpack. It should help to speed up the healing.”

 

She shrugged, shoving the med-x back in and retrieving a stimpack instead. She sat on the bed beside him and pressed down on his hip. He hissed in a breath.

 

“Sorry,” she offered before jamming the needle into his thigh.

 

“Remind me to never come to you for real treatment.”

 

She rubbed where she’d injected him, the touch surprisingly gentle given her normal personality, which made acid seem friendly. “Should help. I’m hoping in another day or two you’ll be able to get rid of the crutch. You won’t be doing any marathons, but you’ll be walking on your own at least.”

 

“Good. It will be nice to be able to walk again.”

 

She continued the touch, and he frowned, watching her hands. He should tell her to stop, but it eased the tension there.

 

“Since we’re spending time together, why don’t you tell me something about yourself?” The words came out of his mouth before he thought better of them. Talking was not a good idea. The less information he gave, the better. He needed her to get him to the airport, not to become his new friend.

 

“What’s there to know? I’m handy with a rifle. I love anything that explodes. Spent some time with the Minutemen, made a few friends throughout the Commonwealth and more than a few enemies. Oh, and I’ll get your pretty ass to that airport. That’s the thing you want to focus on.”

 

“Would you stop calling my ass pretty?”

 

“Why? Fancy boy like you not used to people talking to you like that?”

 

He narrowed his eyes, but she didn’t seem to notice, or care, about his annoyance. Hell, he expected it spurred her on. “No, I’m not used to people speaking to me like that.”

 

“Well, get used to it while I’m here. My mother used to say I’d be so pretty if I just shut my mouth. Sadly, I never learned. You might be a hot shit expert in the Brotherhood, but here, you’re just a client. Better yet, you’re an injured client. It means I can sexually harass you all I want and you can neither catch me, nor run away from me.” She lifted an eyebrow while gazing at his hip. “And, you do have a pretty ass. Why do you think I make you walk in front?”

 

Arthur let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes, as if he could wish hard enough and be back on the Prydwen. He hadn’t been spoke to like this in. . . ever, he supposed. Even when younger, he was a Maxson. People always treated him with a level of respect and deference that Nora had no idea about.

 

She patted his leg. “It’s okay, sweetheart. It’ll all be better when you get back to your buddies. You all can sit and plan how to best fuck over the rest of us.”

 

“Why do you hate the Brotherhood so much?”

 

“Had a bad experience with them.”

 

“Oh really? You? I can’t imagine why you might have problems with someone.”

 

“Me either. Clearly, there’s something wrong with them.”

 

 “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

 

She sighed, her smile sliding from her face. “When I ran into a group at a police station, I was, well, let’s say new to the area. It was before their huge fortress decided to fuck up ocean views, and the three were all alone. So, I helped them out.” She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “I seem to do that a lot, huh? Help out people. Should have learned my fucking lesson, shouldn’t I?”

 

“So what happened?”

 

“Showed up one time with a ghoul in tow. Things got, well, ugly, between one of the Knights and I. The asshole had been trouble from the start, and I guess he felt like I needed to be taught a lesson about what happens when you get to close to nonhumans. I’ve never liked lessons. He ended up with a couple broken ribs before the Paladin pulled me off him and tossed me out on my ass.”

 

Arthur pieced together the story. It must have been Knight Rhys. He’d have to talk to the man, figure out the full story. Whether or not they liked ghouls, you didn’t assault someone just for being around one. “You can’t blame the whole Brotherhood for the actions of one man.”

 

“No, but I haven’t seen anything better. Add to it they keep screwing with my farms, and I’m inclined to take it personal.”

 

“Your farms?”

 

Her gaze jerked away. “I told you I work with the minutemen. I helped plant a lot of those farms. The idea of the Brotherhood stealing it makes me feel a little stabby. Look, let’s get off this conversation, okay?”

 

“If you can talk about my ass, I can talk about the Brotherhood.”

 

“I find your ass infinitely more interesting. I mean, we are stuck together for a while, I think we could be doing things way more fun.” Her hand moved from his hip to the inside of his thigh.

 

He swallowed and kept his face impassive. He didn’t need this, couldn’t let it happen. “Do you throw yourself at every man you meet?”

 

“No, not every one.”

 

The wedding ring on her finger caught the light. How had he not noticed it before? Maybe because that hand wasn’t rubbing inches from his groin before. “And your husband, what does he think of this behavior?”

 

She jerked back, face going blank.

 

He expected her to throw back an insult or a joke, but she went quick, getting off the bed in jerky movements. “Right. Well, I um, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

“Where are you sleeping?”

 

“Somewhere that isn’t here. Goodnight, Brad.” She all but ran from the room, the door snapping shut behind her.

 

Arthur shifted on the bed and groaned. Sure, he’d been trying to get her to back off, but he hadn’t expected such a rough withdraw. Hell, he almost felt bad about it. The woman had schooled her features, not let anything show, but sometimes the absence of emotion told more than any breakdown could.

 

He’d found a deep wound, and he’d poured whiskey right on it.

 

But it was for the best, right?


	5. Chapter 5

 

Nora leaned against the wall beside Deacon. “Who turns down a thousand caps, D?”

 

“You do, all the time.”

 

Yeah, she did. “Alright, fine. I might have felt a little sorry for the idiot, okay? I know that look in his face, I had it when I woke up and decided to stroll out into the Commonwealth on my own. He was going to make the trip with or without me. If I’d let him go, his death would have been on my shoulder. I’ve already got a lot of that, didn’t really need anymore.”

 

“And it has nothing to do with the way he fills out that shirt?”

 

“Nope. Nothing at all to do with that.”

 

“You’re being careful, right? He can’t know you work for us, can’t know anything about us. Even if he isn’t really Brotherhood, it’s too dangerous. Who knows where his loyalties lie.”

 

Nora widened her eyes in mock surprise. “What are you talking about? I invited him to our next mixer! We sit up at night and gossip about how Tom probes his dates for nanotech.”

 

Deacon shoved her arm before shaking his head. If she had a friend out there, it would be Deacon. The spy had taught her everything she knew about the Railroad, about how to survive in this world. She could handle a rifle on her own, but the rest of it? The games and the factions and the bullshit, he guided her through that.

 

“So any new tidbits I should know?”

 

“Brotherhood is riled up,” Deacon answered.

 

“Aren’t they always? What crawled up their ass this time?”

 

Deacon adjusted his sunglasses, even though they were underground. “Not sure. Whatever it is, it’s big. Patrols have doubled and it is very hush-hush. I mean, if I don’t have any information about it, that tells you something.”

 

“You think they could be looking for Brad?”

 

“I doubt it. This sort of response is saved for serious offensives and plans, not for lost farmers.”

 

“What’s your best guess?”

 

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his shaved head. “You’re not going to like it. I think they’re looking for someone, and given their interest in getting into the Institute, and what you did to Kellogg, I think maybe they’re looking for you.”

 

“Of course they are. Still, you’ve got to laugh if it’s true.”

 

“I’m having trouble finding the humor.”

 

“Come on. They’re looking for me at the exact time I’m planning on paying them a visit? That shit is hilarious.”

 

Deacon released a soft laugh that said he might not find it nearly a funny as she did. Of course, she was one of only two heavies for the railroad, so the idea of losing her had to scare him. He’d lived through the Switchboard, he’d survived when so many other agents hadn’t. The idea of losing her, too? He wouldn’t find the humor in it she did.

 

“So please tell me you’re going to rethink the whole strolling up to the Brotherhood’s front gate and knocking plan.”

 

“I promised him to get him there, and I’m going to do it.” When he started to speak, Nora raised her hand to stop him. “However, I promise I will keep back and only escort him far enough that I know he can walk the rest of the way. Then I’ll haul ass out of there. Deal?”

 

“No. But it will have to do, Fixer.”

 

#

 

Arthur put weight on the leg, thankful it finally held it. He wouldn’t be fast, but he could move. It left him dealing with the merchant to try and trade his crutch for something more useful and less cumbersome.

 

“How long have you known Nora?” The woman dug through junk, voice floating out of the box she worked in.

 

“Not long. I hired her for a job.”

 

“Well, you couldn’t find someone better.”

 

He leaned against the counter to give the leg a rest. It ached. “Really? She doesn’t strike me as particularly skilled.”

 

The woman pulled a long stick from behind a locker. “If you say that then you’re right, you don’t know her well.”

 

“She doesn’t seem well liked around here, or around anywhere, really.”

 

“She doesn’t make friends well, a little rough around the edges, I guess. Not that you can blame her for that, the surface is a hard place to live. However, she’s done a lot. She rescued my daughter’s cat, and she cleared a whole extra vault worth of infected mole rats just to save Austin, another kid here. Hell, she got herself bit and instead of taking the cure for herself, like any sane person would have, she gave it to all him, only reason he’s alive. Never seen someone so sick as she worked that disease out of her system. She could have died, you know, but she never looked like she regretted the choice. You don’t meet people like that often.” She handed the stick over, and he realized it was engraved with animals all along the length. It stood nearly his height. “This should work. It’s sturdy, so if you have to hit anything smaller than a Deathclaw, it should hold.”

 

Arthur tried to piece that into what he knew about Nora. The commonwealth seemed to have nothing but criminals and victims from his experience, but perhaps Nora was something else altogether. He tried to picture that girl crawling through an abandoned vault, slaughtering infected mole rats. The picture just didn’t go. He hadn’t even seen her shoot, yet.  

 

He pulled his attention back to the merchant. “How much?”

 

“No charge. Leave the crutch, I’m sure I’ll find a use for it.”

 

“That crutch isn’t worth this.”

 

“No, but any friend of Nora’s is a friend of mine. Good luck.”

 

He gave a polite thank you and used the stick to walk from the little shop. And what did you know? It helped. It gave him balance and allowed him to share some of the weight while not being as cumbersome as the crutch.

 

Nora stood across the way, next to the elevator, beside a man he didn’t recognize, though found familiar. He wore a white shirt and jeans, along with a pair of sunglasses. The two smiled, leaning against the wall, talking in low voices.

 

Was this that husband of hers? Arthur frowned at the idea. He didn’t seem to like thinking about it, thinking about that man and Nora together.

 

He shoved that line of thought out of his head and crossed the distance to walk up to the two.

 

“Nice stick,” Nora offered.

 

The man moved off the wall and patted Nora’s shoulder. “Good talk. Maybe I’ll catch you around, huh? Take care.” He was off before Nora had a chance to respond.

 

“Who was that?”

 

Nora shrugged. “Just a friend. I see him around now and then. How’s the leg?”

 

Arthur took notice of her quick dismissal. Probably not her husband, then. Another boyfriend? Did her husband even know about all these men? He wondered if the poor bastard was at some home somewhere, waiting for her to come back.

 

“It is better. Are you ready?”

 

She nodded at her pack on the floor. “All packed up and ready to go. Our plan is to reach Diamond City today. Should only take a couple hours.”

 

“Then?”

 

“You want the whole plan? Fine. We spend a day, maybe even two, in Diamond City. You can’t get any safer than there. Well, they have thrown me in jail a few times, but Nick always bails me out after the first night. After that, we’ll trek north-east to Goodneighbor and rest again. Then we procure a boat, cross the river, and there’s the Airport!”

 

“Procure?”

 

“Steal. It means we steal it. Before you get yourself worked up, since you don’t seem like the stealing type, it should help to know that I’ll probably steal it from raiders, and I doubt they have pink slips for it or anything.”

 

He wasn’t sure if stealing from raiders made it okay, but in order to get back to the Prydwen? He’d do whatever it took. “Alright. Let’s go.”


	6. Chapter 6

 

Arthur took the stairs into Diamond City slowly, one hand on his walking stick, the other on the railing. He’d wanted to complain about stopping so soon when she’d told him her plan, but damn, she’d been right.

 

He was exhausted.

 

“Almost there,” Nora said from the top of the stairs. “I mean, there’s just as many stairs going down, but I could find a piece of wood. You could ride it down, like in the old days when we’d go sledding down the snowy hills.”

 

“Old days?”

 

“I told you, I’m not as young and spry as I might appear. Come on, I’ll ride down it with you.”

 

He hauled himself up the last step only to see what she meant. There had to be a hundred steps down into the actual city.

 

Nora scooted over until she was right beside him. “It’ll be fun. Right down the stairs, hook a left at the noodle stand, and we could bank right into my place. Want me to go open the door and find a sturdy sled?”

 

And part of him was tempted. Maybe it was her enthusiasm, the strange way he knew she’d actually do it, or the dread at forcing his leg down all those steps. Whatever it was wasn’t quite enough to let him follow through. “No. We could get hurt.”

 

“Well you’re already hurt. I mean, what’ll we do? Break your leg?” She grinned and waggled an eyebrow, but a stern shake of his head had her sighing. “Fine. Well, come on, I want to get down these stairs before the next apocalypse.” She wrapped an arm around his waist on his bad side and started to help him down the stairs. 

 

Arthur tried not lean on her, even though when he did on accident, the pain in his leg receded.

 

“Come on, big guy, don’t pull this Grognak shit on me. I’m stronger than I look.”

 

“You’d have to be.”

 

“I pulled your ass out of a burning vertibird, I can help you down some stairs.”

 

Arthur followed the direction, more because he couldn’t hold himself up anymore than because he wanted to. Being weak stung. He was a damned Maxson, he was an Elder of the Brotherhood, and he couldn’t even walk down some stairs without help?

 

It bit at his pride, especially in front of her. A part of him he didn't care to address wanted to look strong, capable. He wanted her to see him not as some injured weakling needing help, but as the competent, powerful soldier he was.

 

But pride took a second place to survival, even for him, so he leaned more of his weight on her as they made it down to the ground level.

 

“See, not so bad.”

 

He grumbled in disagreement. “Where are we going?”

 

“I told you, I have a place. We’ll get you all settled in, grab some noodles, it’ll be great.”   


 

#

 

Nora balanced the bowls of noodles on her arm, spinning from the bar and almost running directly into Nick Valentine.

 

Only years of waitressing experience kept the food off the detective.

 

“How many times I tell you to watch your surroundings, Doll?” He reached out and took one of the bowls to help.

 

“Enough that I should listen, but we both know I won’t. Thanks, Nick.”

 

“Two bowls, huh? Guess rumors are right.”

 

“Never believe rumors about me. Except the one about the whiskey and the behemoth. That one is funny enough, feel free to repeat it.”

 

Nick chuckled, following her back toward Home Plate. “So, who is your new friend?”

 

“Not a friend. A client. He needed to get to the airport and I-“

 

“-and you are too sweet for your own good and agreed to it?”

 

“Pretty much. And I’m more than exhausted from dealing with him. You care for a girl’s night in?”

 

“I can think of a few things wrong with that. You promise no liquor, and I’ll come.”

 

“You’re no fun.”

 

“I’m a lot of fun when you’re not throwing up on me. Deal?”

 

The temptation of Nick’s company was too great, so Nora sighed for dramatics before agreeing. Brad had gotten on her nerves, and she needed a friendly face for the evening. 

 

And a face she didn't want to have sex with. Getting turned down sucked. 

 

#

 

Arthur reached toward his hip when a synth walked in beside Nora.

 

Right, Nora had taken his gun away.

 

“Relax, Brad. This is Nick and he doesn’t abduct people. He’s the worst synth the Institute ever built.”

 

“I asked you not to introduce me that way, Doll.”

 

She smiled, leaned up on her tiptoes, and pressed a kiss the synths face before taking the bowl of food he held. “You once introduced me as the friendly, neighborhood popsicle.”

 

“Stayed up all night thinking up that one.” The synth, Nick she’d said his name was, smiled like Nora was the best thing he’d ever seen. And hell, Arthur had seen disassembled synths less damaged. He had missing chunks of skin on his jaw, his neck, and one hand was just the metal skeleton. He wore a trench coat and fedora, like a detective off a novel cover. Clearly something had malfunctioned, probably the reason the Institute had thrown him away. “So, she said your name is Brad?”

 

Arthur tried to stare the synth down, but the bot didn’t blink at the look. “Yes. Brad Carter, farming consultant for the Brotherhood of Steele.”

 

“The people who parked their warship in our skies? Some friends you have.”

 

“I never said they were friends; I said they were my employers.”

 

Nick sat in a chair across from Arthur, and the attention of the synth unnerved him. “You did say that, but you’re watching me with that same look they use. Stick with someone long enough and you start thinking like them.”

 

Nora bumped Nick with her hip as she walked by. “Does that mean you’ll start getting arrested with me soon?”

 

“Not likely, Doll. Who would bail you out then?” Nick smiled, then dismissed Arthur like he was unimportant. “How’s Preston?”

 

“Annoying. Did you know he actually asked me to make beds for Finch Farm? Like I have nothing better to do than travel out there to make them some beds? Like that is the range of my skill sets.”

 

“He cares about his people, you know that. He means well.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t realize when he asked me to join that my official position would be his bitch. He promised adventure and power, not beds and water pumps. I can hardly become a criminal mastermind this way.”

 

Nick laughed and lit a cigarette. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry helping the Commonwealth is getting in the way of your plans for world domination.”

 

“I'd take any domination about now, Nicky.”

 

Arthur’s cheeks heated, but Nick just shook his head. “Always trouble when you’re around.”

 

“Maybe, but I keep things interesting.”

 

“Speaking of, are you planning on paying the Mayor a visit? Please tell me you’ve outgrown that little game.”

 

“Oh, trust me, I’ll head there.”

 

“He’s got to know it’s you. Only happens when you’re in town.”

 

“He might know, but can he prove it?”

 

Arthur ate his food while the two bantered, trying to soak in as many details as possible. Preston seemed to be the leader of the Minutemen who had recruited Nora, and while she spoke with annoyance, an underlying level of affection remained. He picked up few specifics about her past, other than the fact she was, as he already knew, trouble.

 

He heard about the time she returned a Deathclaw egg to the mother, the time she got drunk and challenged a raider boss to pistols at dawn, and saw the scar she still had from it. The woman was lucky to be alive with the stunts she had pulled.

 

It made him think back, to what he’d offer in the way of stories if he could. He’d shot his friend as a kid, a little. He killed the Deathclaw, of course. But great tales? The sort you tell over food with friends?

 

He lacked those.

 

“Hey, Doll, can you do me a favor?”

 

Nora set her empty bowl down. “Sure, Nicky. What do you need?”

 

“Ellie refuses to take the night off. She’s been working for two days and I think she’d planning to work through the night. A little of your charm could get her to Vadim’s, get her to relax a bit.”

 

She arched up an eyebrow that said she wasn’t about to fall for this. “Yeah, sure. I’ll head out. You two play nice, okay?”

 

And then it was Arthur and the synth alone.

 

“So, you said your name was Brad Thompson?”

 

Arthur laughed. “No, I said Brad Carter. Does that trick ever work?”

 

“Sometimes.”

 

Hell, if he didn’t hate what he was so much, Arthur might have actually liked the synth. He was no nonsense, a lot like Arthur himself. “So what is this? Some sort of ‘what are your intentions’ talk?”

 

“No. Trust me, that dame can handle herself just fine. You step a bit out of line and she’ll put you down herself. But, see, I’m a detective. I notice things. Things like the way you reached for a sidearm. Civilians don’t do that, not the way you did, not without thinking like that. That indicates military training. The way you talk? That’s the voice of a man used to giving orders. Nothing about you strikes me as civilian.”

 

“And you planning on letting Nora in on these little guesses?”

 

“No. Like I said, she can handle herself. The woman see’s the best in everyone, and even if you were the Director of the Institute, she’d still take you wherever you needed. I’m just letting you know that I know your story doesn’t fit.” Nick stood then, flicking ash from his cigarette into Nora’s empty noodle bowl. “Whatever you have planned, think twice before betraying Nora. The last person who tried it didn’t live long.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

Nora shook Brad’s shoulder. “Wake up, we’ve got something to do.”

 

He groaned but sat up. “What?”

 

“A very important mission. Grab your walking stick and get dressed.” She gazed at his bare chest, ogling down to the line where the blanket hid the fun bits. “Or don’t get dressed. I wouldn’t mind that. Screws with our stealth approach, but hell, might be worth it.”

 

Even in the dim light of her pipboy, she caught the flush on his cheeks beneath his beard. He pulled the blanket off to show he still wore his pants.

 

“Pity.”

 

He said nothing as he tugged on a shirt, then stood. At least he moved better. Another stimpack after dinner had seemed to help. Hell, by morning he might not even need the stick.   

 

They went out into the evening air, and Nora put her finger to her lips to keep him quiet. He frowned but said nothing, using the railing to help him up. He’d left the stick at home, and it had been the best choice. The stick made extra noise, and she was trying to be quiet.

 

The lift to the mayor’s office was quiet, and Nora crouched down, hidden by the railing of the lift.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

She shushed him again. “Distract the woman behind the desk.”

 

“Why? What exactly are you doing?”

 

“Don’t worry about it. Be cool, okay?”

 

He was going to speak again, but the lift stopped and opened. He took a deep breath, but stepped out of the lift.

 

“Can I help you?” The receptionists voice was all sweet, and Nora wanted to scratch the bitches eyes out. She’d never gotten that voice, but then again, she didn’t look like Brad.

 

“Yes. Thank you, miss. My name is Brad Carter and I’m new in town. I was hoping to find out a little about housing options.”

 

Nora grinned at the good guess of topic. Too bad she didn’t have time to listen. She hopped on to the ledge and edged across, the receptionist’s attention only for Brad. When she reached the Mayor’s office, she slid into the window.

 

She’d been in the office a million times, usually when no one could see her. The Mayor had decided to piss her off one too many times, and she’d made it her personal mission to drive him insane. On the desk sat a bottle of whiskey. Nora poured the contents out of the window, then reached into her coat.

 

She replaced the liquid and set it back on the desk. Arthur stared at her through the door, the look across his face saying she was an idiot. She waved, then blew a kiss.

 

The mayor’s door opened down the hallway, his voice floating out, arrogant and self-important.

 

Fuck. If he caught her in his office he’d throw her in jail.

 

Again.

 

Nora dove for the window, catching the ledge and swinging out. Her legs wrapped around the support, and she shimmied down it. Not that it went as graceful as she’d have liked; she landed in a hard heap in the dirt below.

 

But, no broken bones, so that was something.

 

#

 

Arthur took the lift back down, wanting to ring Nora’s neck for leaving him. That receptionist had all but pulled him into a back room for a quickie.

 

At the bottom of the stairs, he caught sight of Nora around the corner of a building, waving him over.

 

“What the hell were you doing in there? Did you poison him?”

 

“What? Oh, the bottle?” She laughed, stumbling into his chest. “Hardly. Trust me, I like when people see my face when I kill them. No, I poured lake water in it.”

 

“Why would you put lake water in it?”

 

“Been doing it for months. One time I even managed to replace his beer bottle in the Dugout Inn with a bottle of lake water. Amazing night.”

 

“Still doesn’t answer why. You’re risking your freedom, if not your life, to mess with the mayor’s drinks?”

 

Nora shuffled her foot against the ground. “I don’t like him, okay?”

 

“Why not? Would could possible warrant this?”

 

“His brother is a good friend of mine. I know all about the shit he’s done. Trust me, he deserves this and a hell of a lot more. However, his brother doesn’t want me to kill him, so instead, I torture him. Lake water in his alcohol bottles, radroaches in his clothing drawers, deathclaw poop in his bed. All the best pranks.”

 

Arthur shook his head. Sure, he could understand it, but it struck him as childish.

 

“Nora!” A heavy-set man walked around the corner.

 

“Good evening, Mayor. Having a nice night?”

 

“You were in my office.”

 

“What are you talking about? I was out for a walk and then I ran into this handsome gentleman here.” She pressed against Arthur’s chest and kissed his throat.

 

He should push her away. His head told him he needed to, but he couldn’t. The reason was the cover she’d made. If she got arrested, it delayed his return.

 

It had nothing at all to do with how warm her lips were, or how badly he wanted to feel them more.

 

Definitely nothing to do with that.

 

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tighter against him. Each curve of her body pressed against him, and he soaked up the touch. Her lips quirked against his skin, like she enjoyed the extra contact.

 

“You can’t lie your way out of it this time.”

 

Arthur rose to his full height, then clasped his hands behind him as he did when talking to his men. “Well, this behavior is disappointing. As I was saying to your receptionist, I was hoping to buy in this city.”

 

The mayor’s face shifted, as if seeing him for the first time. “Oh, Sir, don’t let this change your view of our fine city. You look like Diamond City material.”

 

“Well, I don’t know. You’re here accosting my date.”

 

The mayor took a step backward. “Just a misunderstanding. I’m sorry, you two have a good evening.”

 

Nora took a step back, and the shatter of a bottle had all three pausing.

 

The bottle that still had a bit of lake water inside.

 

Well, new experiences were all the rage, weren’t they?

 

Arthur hadn’t seen the inside of a jail cell before.

 

 

#

 

Nora woke with her head on Brad’s chest. His breath came easily, telling her he was still asleep. Not that much sleep happened with them both on a tiny mattress in the cell.

 

She’d spent plenty of nights there, but always on her own. Getting them both situation had been slightly easier than putting a bow on a deathclaw.

 

She sat up and stared down at Brad. She had to admit, having a partner in crime was. . . nice. He’d played along wonderfully, and if it hadn’t been for the bottle, he’d have talked their way out of this lovely stay.

 

Her movement woke him, and he gazed around, then groaned. “You know, I have never before woken up in a jail cell.”

 

“You’re welcome for your new education. And, thank you. For trying to help me.”

 

“We were still arrested.”

 

“Yeah, but there was a seventy percent chance that was going to happen no matter what.”

 

“How long will we have to stay here?”

 

Nora gazed down at her pipboy. “Maybe another hour? Nick is usually pretty fast at getting me out of here.”

 

“And why would the Mayor let you out?”

 

Nora reached her arms above her, stretching her back. “Because the town loves Nick and Nick loves me. The Mayor hates me, but he loves public opinion more. It means he can throw me in here for a night, and sometimes kick me out of town for a few days, but that’s it.” She looked over, and caught Brad staring at her, gaze tracing the line of her back, then to where her chest pressed out as she stretched. “See something you like?”

 

He jerked his gaze away then rubbed at the back of his neck. “So, you said an hour?”

 

She laughed and leaned against him. “Yep. But, hell, you two hit it off. Maybe he’ll come save you sooner.”


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur rolled his shoulder as he followed Nora. The walk went slow, but at least he’d been able to get rid of the walking stick.

 

“I can hear you sulking from up here,” Nora called over her shoulder.

 

“My neck hurts. As it turns out, sleeping in a jail cell is not fun.”

 

“Spending a night in jail is like beer pong and chlamydia, a rite of passage.” She paused, then laughed. “Also, they often all happen the same night!”

 

“You know I don’t understand most of what you say, right?”

 

“I know. It’s a good thing I find myself amusing.” She turned and walked backward as she spoke to him. “How’s the leg? You should have kept the stick another day, but I’ve dealt with men like you enough.”

 

He pulled his shoulders back. He’d grown tired of her constant barbs, the way she decided she knew anything about him or his past. All she knew was a lie, so her judging him based on a lie chafed. “You keep presuming to know anything about me. What exactly is the sort of man you think I am?”

 

Nora crossed her arms and stuck on hip out. “You really want to do this?”

 

He spread his arms out. “Go ahead. I’d love to know just how much you know about me.”

 

“Fine. I grew up around men like you. My Dad was military, a soldier. Men like you were officers. They walked around, issuing orders, never taking one good look at the men they were sending off to die. None of that mattered to them; what was the life of a grunt worth? Later, when my husband brought me to an event, I met an officer who you remind me of. He shook my husband’s hand and forgot his name within a minute, when he reintroduced himself. People like you try to live so far above the rest of us. You didn’t need to tell me anything, Brad, I can read you a mile away. You’re upper stands, you’re officer material, you’re the elite. I see it in the way you walk around, hands clasped behind your back, in the way you talk to people, in the way you curl your lip up in disgust. How am I doing?”

 

Arthur tore his gaze away at her guesses, all way too close to home. “Maybe you didn’t know that officer as well as you thought you did. Maybe you’re as guilty of judging others as you say I am.”

 

“Oh, I knew everything I needed to know about Roger Maxson.”

 

Arthur’s gaze jerked back at the name. “Roger Maxson? He died 200 years ago.”

 

She spread her arms out. “I told you I wasn’t as young as I appeared to be.”

 

He readied himself to reiterate that chems had rotted her mind away when the beeping of a super mutant suicider silenced them both.

 

 

#

 

 

Nora almost thanked the super mutant for the interruption. At least, she would have if she wasn’t busy trying to make sure she and Brad didn’t get blown to bits.

 

That would be a terrible end to her first paid escort gig. No one would hire her after a failure like that.

 

She darted forward, knocking Brad to the ground and rolling them both as she pulled her rifle. The suicider came from around a building, far enough away the blast would singe them, but not kill them.

 

Rubble rained down on her after the shot detonated the nuke. Other, bloodier things rained down on them as well, and she realized there must have been another super mutant near them.

 

When they settled, she rested on top of Brad, her right arm still out straight toward where the super mutant had been.

 

“That was close-“ Brad started to say, but Nora pressed her hand over his mouth.

 

“Wait for it.”

 

After a moment, the telltale bellow of another super mutant reached them. “Here little human.”

 

Nora reached into her pack and pulled out a mine. She pressed the button then tossed it. “They always travel in groups, and the suiciders always attract the others. Come on, on your feet.” She hopped up and stuck her hand out. “Not that I won’t try to get on top of you again later, but I prefer my sex sans super mutant.”

 

Brad took her hand and she helped hauled him to his feet. She turned him by his shoulder and slapped his ass. “Get a move on. I’ll mop up the rest of them.”

 

“I’m not going to leave you.”

 

“I’d let you fight but someone forgot his walking stick.” She pushed at his shoulders, but he wouldn’t budge.

 

“Give me a gun. I can help.”

 

“The last time I gave a farmer a gun, he shot me because he had no idea how to aim. Since then I learned my lesson. Don’t give guns to amateurs.”

 

“I’m not a coward. I don’t leave a woman to fight on her own.”

 

“Oh, so that’s what this is? Some sort of manly bullshit? Well guess what, Brad, I’ve saved your ass a few times already and you’re about to see me do it again.”

 

“It isn’t like that.”

 

“No, of course not.” Nora turned and fired a shot at the mutant hound that rounded the corner. It fell into a pile. “You hired me to keep you alive and get you there because you couldn’t do it yourself, but you keep arguing with me. I know you’re used to issuing orders, but for once, can you try to take ‘em instead?”

 

He went to argue, but Nora didn’t have time for it. She turned her back on him because, hell, it wasn’t like he could keep up anyway. Nora reached into her pack and pulled a grenade. She pulled the pin and chucked it just before another super mutant came into sight.

 

He raised his gun, but she didn’t duck. No reason to. Super mutants took forever to aim. Sure enough, before he fired, the grenade went off and he went flying to the left.

 

Something struck her left, knocking her down. The unmistakable growl of a super mutant clued her in, and she brought her elbow across his jaw. “Not interested,” she hissed as she struggled beneath his weight. One more twist and she was able to crawl out. He grasped her ankle, but a kick got him to let go.

 

Her rifle sat a few feet away, knocked from her grasp. Brad was lumbering that way, but he’d never reach it in time.

 

“It’s okay, I have a plan,” she called to Brad.

 

“Is it a good plan?”

 

“It’s a plan.”

 

The super mutant got to his feet, raising up so high he cast a shadow over her.

 

“We could be friends, you know. You could reach things on tall shelves, I could pick up shit you drop. It would be a perfect partnership.”

 

He swiped his sledgehammer, but Nora leapt backward, out of range. Super mutants were strong, but they were slow. She kept the steps going backward, hoping when his reach got too close.

 

Finally, her gaze caught the mine.

 

She stepped over it, talking to keep his attention up. “A little blush would bring out your cheeks, you know that?”

 

“Puny human talk too much.”

 

“I know, I know. But you know what I do that?”

 

His foot hit the mine, setting off the soft beeps.

 

Nora wanted to throw a quip, but she’d rather survive. She leapt onto the hood of a car frame, sliding over it and tossing herself down behind it.

 

The explosion skidded the frame over, taking her with it, but only some scrapes and bruises occurred.

 

She sat up, pressing her back against the car and taking a deep breath. “You alive, Brad?”

 

“Are you insane?”

 

“Well, you’re bitching, so you must be alive.” She grabbed the side of the car and hauled herself up. Sure enough, Brad wobbled himself her way.

 

                    

#

 

Arthur was going to kill her. Between not arming him, having her gun knocked away, and then taunting a super mutant into a mine, he was going to kill her.

 

Better him than the commonwealth, because it was clear she wouldn’t live long either way.

 

This was the woman he’d put his life in the hands of? Sure, they’d survived, and he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit her aim was astounding, but while he’d lived his life under procedure and tactics, she flew by random chance and hoped it would work.

 

“You could have been killed, Nora.”

 

“Anyone could be killed. All it takes it eleven minutes.”

 

He frowned at the specific time. “Screw with super mutants and it could be a lot less. You have to take this more seriously, you have to think before you do things. This isn’t a game, Nora.”

 

She advanced on him, face angrier than he’d ever seen. “Yes, it is! Don’t you get that? If anyone understands what a fucking game this all is, it’s me. You can play it any way you want, but in the end, we all get fucked. Eleven minutes, that’s how long it takes for everything to go to shit, to go from the perfect life to having nothing. And nothing you can do in those eleven minutes means a damn thing. So you can fuck yourself and your fancy life and your high status because I know it’s a game no one can ever win. All we can do is try to enjoy it while we play.” She shoved his shoulders, and he stumbled back, against a building.

 

“You’re a lunatic, you know that?”

 

She wrapped her hands behind his head and yanked his lips down to hers. She had to lean against him and go up on her toes to reach, but she slid her tongue into his mouth, kissing him like she had nothing else, like nothing else mattered.

 

And even though Arthur had every reason to shove her away, he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. Her legs spread, his thigh going between them until her cunt pressed against the muscle of his leg. She ground against him, fingers gripping his neck so tight he’d have bruises.

 

If she was insane, so was he. Maybe she’d infected him. It was in the way she made him want freedom, want things he’d never wanted, never even knew existed. He wanted to play childish pranks, he wanted to scream at a super mutant, he wanted to do whatever he wanted and not worry about his image, about his lineage, about anything but that moment.

 

Then her wedding ring caught on the collar of his shirt, and everything came back to him.

 

What was he doing?

 

He broke the kiss and turned his head. “You’ve made your feelings about me pretty damn clear. Why are you so eager to sleep with me?”

 

“In case you never figured this out, you can fuck people you hate. As long as you don’t talk, your cock works as well as anyone elses. At least, I assume it does.” She reached down and cupped him through his jeans. “Seems fine from here.”

 

Arthur shoved her hand away and pushed her off him. He needed to keep his head on straight. Don’t give her anything she could use against him. He knew better. “I don’t sleep with married women.”

 

And there that spine went. He wouldn’t have been shocked if she’d slapped him.

 

Her face smoothed over and she took a step back, a smile too tight to be real across her lips. “Your loss, cupcake. Let’s go.”


	9. Chapter 9

 

Nora shoved the door closed behind her, then pushed a heavy desk in front of it. It would have proven a fire hazard in the old days, but now ferals were a larger problem than fires.

 

Sweat ran down her back, causing her shirt to stick to her. Some was the walking, and the work, but most was the from the front edge of the radstorm blowing in.

 

“There is no reason to hunker down like this.” Brad dropped his weight onto a couch against the wall. “Even if you were right, radstorms aren’t that big a deal.”

 

Maybe not for him. The people who’d grown up in this radiation had developed a level of immunity to it she hadn’t. Out in the open during a radstorm could down Nora for days without the right meds. Getting inside was the best option, and she always felt them coming.

 

“I stopped for your leg, you can stop for my paranoia.” She tossed him her pack. “There’s cram in the bottom if you’re hungry.”

 

A shudder ran through her. Yeah, the storm was gearing up. She patted her leg for the rad-x she always kept there, then popped the two pills and dry swallowed them.

 

Brad shook his head when she offered him a dose. “Radiation isn’t that dangerous.”

 

“Maybe not for you.” She slid down to the floor in front of the couch, leaning back.

 

“You’re sweating. Are you alright?”

 

She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Not a fan of radstorms, that’s all.”

 

As she spoke, the first green clouds appeared outside. She took a deep breath and tore her gaze away. Something about those green clouds reminded her of the cryotube. Maybe it was the suffocation she’d felt, the way the ice had stopped her lungs from working. The burn of the rads felt the same.

 

“Could you talk to me?”

 

#

 

Arthur frowned at the woman who sat in front of her. She trembled. The girl who had faced off against a super mutant actually trembled.

 

“Tell me about Roger Maxson. He’s a legend among the Brotherhood. It’s hard to believe you knew him.”

 

She laughed, but the sound came out rough. “I didn’t know him well. Like I said, he was an asshole.”

 

“His family has lead the Brotherhood since the beginning. His decedent, Arthur Maxson, is Elder of the East Coast Brotherhood and expected to become High Elder.” As he spoke, he realized he wanted her to be impressed. He wanted her to hear that title, and to think something positive.

 

“Well, Arthur is probably an asshole, too.”

 

And there went that idea.

 

“You know, that night, Roger hit on me at the bar. I don’t know if he didn’t remember about my husband, or if he just didn’t give a shit. Could have been either. He came up, grabbed my ass, and told me his room number.”

 

“And what did you do?”

 

She sighed. “Nothing.”

 

“Nothing? That doesn’t sound much like you.”

 

“It was a different world back then. You couldn’t just shoot people you didn’t like.”

 

“No lake water, either?”

 

She dropped her head back and grinned up at him. “No, no lake water either. Never even told Nate.” She must have caught Arthur’s frown because she continued. “Nate, my husband.”

 

“Where is Nate? I can’t imagine a husband who lets his wife run around with strange men.”

 

“I hate to take away your method of jabbing me when you feel like it, but Nate died.”

 

The static of the radstorm cracked outside, and Nora jerked her face toward the wall.

 

Arthur continued, trying to draw her attention back. “What was the eleven minutes about?” He suspected the fear of the radstorm was the only reason she answered, like she’d been thrown off her game.

 

“I timed it, you know? One night, when I couldn’t sleep, I timed it. I remember it all, of course, but I set up a timer and ran. From the time the television announced the first bomb, then the run to the vault, down to where we got into the tubes. Eleven minutes. I was looking at my baby, had my perfect life, and eleven minutes later, it was all gone.”

 

Baby? Her words sunk in, even when he didn’t understand them all. The only one that stuck with him was baby. “You’re a mother?”

 

“I was.”

 

He reached forward and touched her shoulder, to offer some comfort, something. No matter what was between them, no person should lose their child. Her skin was clammy and warm, sweat pouring off her. “Are you okay?”

 

Her pipboy clicked, and she stared down at it. “Bad radstorm. Usually a rad-x is enough. It’s alright, I’ve got rad-away, too.”

 

“Why is this happening?”

 

She reached up and got the back, fishing out a bag of rad-away. The efficiency she had with setting up the IV told him she’d done this plenty of times. “You haven’t really been paying attention to my story, have you? Not that I blame you, most people don’t listen to me. I tell a lot of lies, and somewhere between that and absurd is what really happened. I’m pre-war, and my body doesn’t deal with radiation as well as yours.”

 

He sat back. Pre-war? He figured, if she was being honest, she’d have to be something like that. She’d known Roger Maxson, she spoke about things he didn’t understand. “How are you still alive?”

 

“Frozen. I was part of a vault dealing with cryostasis. I’m one of Vault-Tec’s many failed experiments.”

 

“Seems like it was a success.”

 

 “Would you really consider me living a success?” The medication ran down the line, and she released as soft sigh.

 

“I’m sorry about your family.”

 

She shrugged. “Shit happens. But what about you, Brad? You mentioned getting back to your family in the Capital Wasteland, seem pretty eager, too. Who do you have waiting for you? A wife? Is that why you like to turn me down?”

 

Stay as close to the truth as possible, to keep a story straight. “No wife. No real family, I guess. Just friends who feel like family.”

 

“So now I’m even more insulted by your rejections.”

 

“To be fair, you wear a wedding band and I had no idea your husband had passed away.”

 

“And you’re the only man in the entire commonwealth who would give a shit about that. Trust me, I know.”

 

“Do you test it out a lot?”

 

“Are you asking me how many men I have sex with?”

 

Arthur ground his molars together, not wanting to admit to his curiosity. However, when she didn’t speak, he gave in. “Yes. I am.”

 

She scooted over so she leaned against his shin, dropping her head back against his knee. “I’m not a blushing virgin, Brad. I was married, and then I wasn’t. This world doesn’t always feel real to me. I ground myself in it the way I want to, and sometimes that’s with men. I’m not going to apologize for that.”

 

“I didn’t ask for an apology, did I? As strange as it may seem, I can understand that. I’m not exactly a stranger to using vices to escape realities we’d rather not face.” His hadn’t been sex, but the same old pains drove both needs. He could still remember the way everything had floated away when he took jet, the way all the responsibility he held didn’t matter anymore, the moments of peace it gave him. Yeah, he could understand losing yourself in whatever you could.

 

“And what is it you’re trying to escape from, huh?”

 

This time he looked away. Too close to the truth, so he couldn’t answer it. Wouldn’t. Not like she’d understand, anyway. Even if she knew his lineage, understand what was expected of him, she’d never really know how that wore on a person. “How far are we from Goodneighbor?”

 

“We’ll be there by tomorrow night. You’ll hate the place. It’s full of fun.” She slid the needle from her arm then tossed the empty bag across the room.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

Nora twisted around, folding her arms across his knees. “Yep. So, now that we’ve figured out that neither of us is currently married, will you have sex with me?”

 

“Quite the romantic, aren’t you?” He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her up, into his lap. “I still think you’re insane.”

 

“Well, I’m not about to argue with that. Especially if you keep this up.”

 

“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

 

“Why not?” She pouted, her bottom lip stuck out.

 

He leaned in and nipped it. Why not was a good question. She was willing, he certainly had considered it. She wasn’t the prettiest girl he’d ever seen by a long shot, but she was intriguing, different, compelling. But, he wasn’t Brad. He wasn’t some person who could do whatever he wanted.

 

He was Arthur Maxson. He had to remember that, even when, with her, he didn’t want to be that person anymore. He’d get back to his ship, back to his life, and all of this would be over. Having sex with her like this felt wrong, like a lie.

 

But even he didn’t have the discipline to push her away entirely. He pulled her close and brushed his lips against hers. Her tongue sought to press past his lips, her hands digging into his shoulders. That was all her, though, wasn’t it? All fire, all want, all need. She drew closer, grinding against his lap, seeking more. Always more.

 

After a moment, Arthur broke the kiss and laughed at the whimper that escaped her lips.

 

She tried to recapture his lips. “Come on, I promise I’m good at it. If I’m wrong, you can have whatever you want. Preferably another go.”

 

“I’m not the sort to jump into anything, Nora.” And there was so much more than that, but he couldn’t tell her it. He wanted to be careless and wild, but he couldn’t. Not yet.

 

“I’m not getting off tonight, am I?”

 

How could he be so charmed by her complete insanity? “No, you’re not.” He offered her one more soft kiss as a consolation prize.


	10. Chapter 10

 

Waking up beside Brad had been strange, but oddly welcoming. Nora had woken up beside plenty of men, but this was the first time she hadn’t wanted to slid out of the room before they woke. What was it about him that made her want to stay for the first time since waking up.

 

There’s been no shortage of men, but each time, she’d been the one to run, to sneak away, to refuse to stay. Just the idea of more sent her running. So why did she want to crawl back into that bed with Brad, even if he wouldn’t sleep with her?

 

The morning had been quiet, filled with the awkward silence that happened with two people who both wanted something but weren’t sure how it would fit into their lives. Nora wanted sex, and what did Brad want?

 

She still wasn’t sure.

 

The longer she spent around him, the more she regretted all the things she had to keep from him. She wanted to tell him about the minutemen, about the railroad. She wanted to not have to watch what she said, to hide things.

 

Even Brotherhood adjacent was a potential risk, though. After what the Institute had done to the switchboard, she wouldn’t risk HQ by mouthing off to a new friend. Even if the friend filled out his jeans extraordinarily well.   

 

They rounded a corner when a bullet whizzed past her, striking the brick beside her. “Well that’s just rude,” she muttered before Brad yanked her backward by her collar.

 

“That you, General?” The voice came from where the bullets had originated.

 

“Depends. Who are you?”

 

Another bullet. “Friends of the raiders you decided to clear out of Hangman’s Alley, just so you could set up another precious settlement.”

 

“To be fair, I don’t think those raiders were the rightful owners of that property.”

 

“What are they talking about?” Brad had his back pressed against the wall. “General? As in, General of the Minutemen?”

 

“Maybe. I mean, who can keep all their titles straight?” Nora checked her rifle before peeking around the corner. “Nora Jacobs, Woman out of time, vault dweller, General of the Minutemen, savior of farmers in vertibird crashes, befriender of stray dogs, and collected for deathclaw crap.”

 

Three. One was an easy shot, but the other two would prove trickier. Both utilized cover.

 

One bullet took out the easy mark before she ducked back around the corner.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Didn’t think it mattered that much. It’s not a job I go around announcing.”

 

“Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t run into so many problems.”

 

“Yes, because situations like this,” she pointed around the corner, “tell me to be more vocal. Criminals always react well to people in positions of authority.”

 

“You know, the idea that you have a position of authority would stop most people in their tracks.”

 

“You wound me, Brad.” She darted out of cover and dove behind a short brick wall. It allowed her to shoot one of the men behind cover. “Come on, buddy, you don’t have to die here, too!”

 

The last man’s voice came from his spot of cover. “The minutemen were a bunch of pussies before you. Hell, we had it down to what, one man? Take you out, and I bet you it all falls apart again. Can’t wait, either, I’m sick of living off scraps and hiding from patrols! First thing I’m gonna do after I kill you is round up some buddies and go pay that sweet little settlement up north a visit. Sanctuary, you call it? Fuck, I bet those settlers are the softest.”

 

And that was it. The idea of him heading into Sanctuary, after everything Preston and the Quincy survivors had been through, it enraged her. She pulled the psycho from the pocket at her thigh and jammed it into her leg.

 

She was up and over the wall. Her arm burned, and she realized he’d shot her. Fuck that nonsense. She didn’t even slow, lifting her rifle. “You will never get close to Sanctuary, you hear me?” She unloaded bullet after bullet. Most hit around him, striking the car he hid behind, but some hit him.

 

Before she realized it, she stood over his unmoving body, still firing.

 

Another pain, this one in her leg. She stared down like she had no idea why something might hurt.

 

A new bullet wound?

 

She was thrown to the ground beneath a heavy body.

 

#

 

Arthur gripped Nora’s collar, even as she struggled against him. “It’s just me, damn it.”

 

She stilled. “Brad?”

 

The fake name annoyed him. “Sure, why not?”

 

No recognition in her eyes, just fury and bloodlust. Yeah, he’d seen her inject the chems, saw the way she went from amusing crazy to a psychopath.

 

Then reinforcements had shown up and surrounded them, and she hadn’t even noticed. She’d done nothing but fire round after round into the already dead man. Hell, she hardly flinched at the bullet wound through her thigh.

 

He yanked her over, behind the car. His hands closed on the man’s assault rifle, checking it for ammunition.

 

Finally, some luck.

 

“We’ve got four. Two behind that building, two to the left, inside the shop.” He pointed two fingers in each direction, finally glad to be in his element. He could fight, he could plan, this he understood.

 

“I’ll take those four.” She tried to stand, but Arthur pulled her back down beside him.

 

“Psycho makes you think you can kill everything, it doesn’t mean you really can.”

 

“Want to bet on it? I take them out, you fuck me?”

 

“And what do I get if you don’t?” No, damnit, don’t encourage her. Don’t engage.

 

“You win, I’ll have sex with you.”

 

“Wait, but that’s-“

 

And she was gone. He groaned and turned, aiming for the two in the building. Nora had darted for the ones behind the other building.

 

When the first dropped, he wasn’t sure if he should smile or not. He’d won the bet, but given the prizes she’d set up, it didn’t really make a difference.

 

His leg protested the movement, though at least it resulted in stiffness rather than agony. He moved to his left, following the line of the building, ducking past a window. Through the door and two bullets later, he’d removed the other.

 

But he heard no shots from the direction Nora had gone.

 

Arthur hurried out and toward her position. Around the corner, he found her, on the ground with a raider.

 

She’d ditched the gun, a blade in her hand instead. The raider didn’t seem to be moving anymore, not that it stopped her.

 

But that’s what psycho was, it was anger. Your enemy dying didn’t help corral that sort of anger.

 

“Nora, where’s the last one?”

 

She jerked her gaze over to him, a grin breaking over her face, beneath the splatters of blood. “Ran off. Can’t imagine why he didn’t want to play.”

 

Then someone hit Arthur from the side. His leg couldn’t hold the weight of both bodies, and he went down hard on his side.

 

Of course, the raider was just a raider. Injured or not, Arthur was a Brotherhood soldier, trained from the moment he could walk. Fighting was second nature.

 

He swung his elbow around, connecting with the man’s jaw. He shoved the raider off him, rolling to his feet, though the motion was slower than it used to be, slower than it should have been. Still, a hell of a lot faster than the raider was.

 

He lifted the gun, emptying a single bullet between his eyes. He didn’t fire warning shots. When he decided to pull that trigger, he aimed to end them.

 

Nora got to her feet, eyes finally a little more human. Still, she started to pace, and he knew the psycho still ran in her veins.

 

“So, you’re just a farmer, right?”

 

He tucked the weapon into the waistband of his pants. “That’s right.”

 

“Fuck that. I’ve spent a lot of fucking time around farmers these days, and I can tell you, they don’t fight like that. No one fights like that unless they’ve fought for a living, and not just as a raider. That shit is taught. You’re military.”

 

He looked away before she could see too much. “Everyone has a past, Nora.”

 

But she said nothing, just stared at him, like she knew he was lying but couldn’t prove it, couldn’t put her finger on the facts.

 

After a moment, she tucked her blade back into its place at her ankle and plastered that smiled across her lips. “I think we’ve earned a hell of a bender tonight. And guess what? Hancock will be so happy we murdered some raiders, I bet you he’ll let us drink for free.”


	11. Chapter 11

 

Goodneighbor was worse than Nora had let on, and she’d made it sound fairly terrible. He’d seen little other than criminals and ghouls. And criminal ghouls. Everything stunk of alcohol and urine, and a thin layer of stickiness covered everything.

 

Why were the benches sticky?

 

And now, they sat in the VIP area of the local bar with a ghoul dressed in a strange red coat and hat, who was, evidently, the mayor of this little slice of hell.

 

“Come on, sister. Not even a taste?” The ghoul, Hancock, held out a tin of mentats, shaking them as if to tempt her.

 

“I’m good with wine, thanks. Psycho hit my limit for the day.”

 

“Psycho? And you didn’t invite me?” Hancock slid his arm over her shoulders.

 

She grinned and cuddled into the ghoul. “Psycho makes me violent, not flirtatious.”

 

“Ah, sunshine, I’d be happy to take some bruises for you. Hell, I’d take anything you wanted to give me.” He pressed his lips against her neck.

 

Arthur took another drink from his beer while trying to look anywhere else. Being surrounded by these people made him uneasy. At least he had a weapon, since Nora hadn’t taken away the rifle he’d gotten off the raider.

 

Of course, given her little outburst after the fight, he had to be careful. Not that he’d had another choice. What was the use of a cover story if he were dead? He just had to be more cautious, not give her any reason to question his story.

 

Not that he hadn’t started to realize she was more than met the eye. The General of the Minutemen? He’d known someone had started to gather them, but he’d had no idea it was her. He wondered what other secrets a woman like that might keep.

 

Nora shoved Hancock off her and tilted her wine bottle back, gulping down a few swallows before tossing the empty bottle away. She was already drunk, but the girl had no idea about her limitations.

 

That should come as a warning label for her, tattooed across her forehead.

 

“You should slow down,” Arthur offered.

 

“You bringing Brotherhood around here now?” Hancock’s voice came out slow and dangerous, eyes on Arthur even though the words were for Nora. Maybe he wasn’t the junkie he’d first appeared. Maybe there was more to him.

 

“Why do you say I’m Brotherhood?”

 

“Because there’s only one self-entitled asshole type in these parts who hate ghouls as much as you do. I can see it in your face, seen it for years. You may pretend you don’t care, but that hatred’s obvious as a gunshot. Add that bigoty with your ‘do what I say’ attitude, and I can peg Brotherhood in the dark.”

 

 Nora answered for him. “He’s a farming expert. The Brotherhood hired him.”

 

“And that’s the type you’re with now, huh?”

 

“I’m with whoever the fuck I want to be with, John.”

 

The ghoul growled and tore his gaze away from them. “You don’t have to run around with strangers, you know. You could settle down here, with me.”

 

“We both know that isn’t happening. I’m not the settling down type anymore.”

 

They spoke like Arthur wasn’t even there, like he didn’t matter even if he’d spawned the conversation. Then again, the two of them were drunk, high, or a combination of the two. Neither had to be thinking straight.

 

“You could be. You settled down before.”

 

“And look what it got me. Fucking heartache, that’s what. Sorry, John, but it ain’t happening. We had our fun, but that’s all it was.”

 

Hancock’s hand set on her thigh. “Come on, sunshine, stay the night with me. Your soldier boy can sleep at the Rexford, and I’ll remind you why you keep coming back here.”

 

She sighed, like the request alone hurt, before she pushed his hand off. “I’m not fucking you, John. It means too much to you.”

 

When he returned his hand, Arthur had had enough. He came over and grabbed the collar of Hancock’s jacket, pulling him off.

 

Hancock had a blade to Arthur’s throat before his feet had fully hit the ground. Yeah, the ghoul was far more dangerous than he seemed. “How about we keep our hands to ourselves, huh Brother?”

 

“How about you do the same.”

 

Nora was the one to stop the stand-off. “Why don’t we all put our dick’s away, unless we’re planning a threesome here.”

 

This time, Hancock laughed, tucking his blade into his belt at the small of his back. “Believe it or not, even I have my standards. I don’t fuck Brotherhood. You two have a good evening. I think I’ll pick up some company and head back to the Statehouse.”

 

Once they were alone, Arthur caught the flush on Nora’s cheeks. “What was that about? What is it between you and him?”

 

“That is so totally not your business.” Her fingers slid over her wedding ring, absently, like she didn’t even know she did it. “Can you get yourself back to the room?” She stood up and went to walk past him.

 

Arthur caught her arm. “Where are you going?”

 

“Also, not your business.”

 

“Don’t do this, Nora.”

 

She leaned into him. “Do what? Come on, say it.”

 

He set his hand on the side of her neck and tilted her face up to his. “Don’t go looking for happiness in other people, because you won’t find it.”

 

“And what would you know about that?”

 

He took a deep breath, and before he knew it, the truth, or as much as he dared say, poured from his lips. “I’m a chem addict, Nora. That’s why I refused to take the med-x. I know the look in your eye, the way you want to use something, or someone, to fix what hurts. Problem is, it never works.”

 

“Sex isn’t chems.”

 

“No, but either will hollow you out, make you make bad choices. Neither is bad, but if you try to use them, they’ll tear you apart.”

 

She met his gaze, and he thought, for a moment, he saw the woman beneath the snark and the cursing and the insanity. “And what are you offering me?”

 

“Conversation and,” he held up the rest of the bottle of whiskey Hancock had left. “half a bottle of whiskey.”

 

“You know, you’re the only person I’ve ever chosen conversation over sex with.”

 

“I’m flattered.”

 

“Don’t be. It might just be because I suspect you’d be a lousy lay.” She let her gaze drop to his groin and cocked up an eyebrow. “Then again, I think you have the raw materials.”

 

Arthur shook his head and slid an arm around her shoulders as he guided them back to their room. 

 

This wasn't how this was supposed to go, but right then, he really didn't care. 


	12. Chapter 12

 

Nora groaned against the bright sun, her sunglasses barely helping.

 

“Are you stealing my look?” Deacon pointed at her sunglasses, exactly like the pair on his face.

 

“That is hilarious coming from you. Do you actually own any of your looks?” Nora waved at his outfit. “Who is this?”

 

“This is drifter chic. Now, don’t be a bitch. I brought you coffee.”

 

She took the cup he’d offered, wrapping her hands around the warmth. The smell helped ease her headache.

 

“Hard night?”

 

“Too much wine. Also, might have been a couple gunshot wounds and some psycho.”

 

He shook his head. “Your sex is getting rougher and rougher, you know that?”

 

“Funny. So why are you starting my morning off far earlier than it should have been. It better be good, I left the bed of a very handsome, still possibly slightly drunk, man.”

 

“Drummer Boy says there’s a dead drop.” He grabbed the arm with her pipboy and brought up her map, marking the location. His fingers touched her skin, but she’d never had any sort of romantic entanglements with Deacon. Maybe it was because they were too damned alike, and she already hated herself. She couldn’t imagine trying to form a relationship between two liars, between two people who couldn’t be serious no matter what was going on.

 

They’d kill each other, if they were lucky. If they were unlucky, they’d survive long enough to suffer through a relationship.

 

“That’s it? You know, as a heavy, I expected more fighting and less mail pickup.”

 

“Enjoy it; you get hazard pay.”

 

“You’re paying me? Since when?”

 

“Ah, Fixer, I’m kidding. You know we only pay people in danger and lies and sex with Carrington.”

 

“And with payment like that, I can’t believe the railroad doesn’t have agents lining up.”

 

“I know, right? So, how’s the babysitting job going?” Deacon pushed his glasses up his nose. They never slid down that Nora had seen, but he seemed to adjust them as an unconscious fidget.

 

“Good. But, Deacon, there’s something weird.”

 

“I told you. Men with that many muscles are always compensating. Did you get a look at his substandard goods?”

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

Deacon pressed his hand to his chest. “You haven’t? Well then, something is wrong!”

 

“I’m serious. He says he’s a farmer, but he handles a gun like someone who’s been doing it all his life. He says he’s a farmer, but he orders me around in a fight like a general. He’s not telling me the truth.”

 

“You know what I say. Always trust your instincts. Cut your loses and bail, Fixer. I don’t want you to get yourself killed off because you’re lusting after some Institute agent.”

 

Nora thought about that, but dismissed the idea as soon as it formed. Brad was. . . different. “Hard to blame him for lying about something. I’m lying.”

 

“So what do you want? Come on, ask nicely.”

 

Nora bumped him with her shoulder. “Brad Carter is his name. See what you can figure out, okay? Let me know anything you discover.”

 

“Alright Fixer, but you’ll owe me for this.”

 

“Yes, but you unless I can pay you in snark and bad choices, you’re going to be disappointed.”

 

“Yes, but you always disappoint me, sweetheart.” Deacon offered her a mock salute before disappearing into the city. He always did that, melted away. Her only real friend, and yet she knew little about him, really. Still, he’d always had her back, and that was more than she could say for most people.

 

She hated having to ask about information on Brad, but the sight of him fighting, the skill he showed, his extraordinary aim, she couldn’t get that out of her head.

 

She’d seen her father fight. She’d seen Nate fight. Civilian farmers didn’t fight like that, which meant Brad wasn’t telling her the whole truth.

 

And for once, she cared.

 

#

 

Arthur closed his eyes as the other man walked away from Nora, as he listened from around the corner.

 

So, that explained some things, didn’t it? Nora was not only the general of the Minutemen, but she was a Railroad agent. Agent Fixer, who he’d heard plenty about.

 

He rubbed his eyes. Why couldn’t this have been easy?

 

He’d found himself imagining a future with her, somehow. He’d thought, maybe, when they got back to the Prydwen, he could tell her who he was and she’d forgive him. He’d bring her into his world, find a way to make her see why he had to lie to her.

 

He’d pictured her in his quarters, eating dinner together instead of alone. He thought about someday, maybe, taking her back and making her his wife. He thought about how she’d have his children, and maybe it would wipe away that sadness when she spoke about the baby she’d lost.

 

But, none of that would happen.

 

The railroad was a problem waiting for a solution, and that solution would only be destruction. They wanted to save synths and the Brotherhood needed to destroy synths. There was no third option there.

 

And when they walked into the Boston Airport, Arthur would have no choice but to take her into custody, to interrogate her, and that idea killed him. The way she’d look at him when she realized, it haunted him.

 

He left and headed back to the room, once against reminded of the terrible truth no amount of distance could change.

 

He was Arthur Maxson, and no matter how much he might try to pretend otherwise, he had to act like it eventually.


	13. Chapter 13

 

Nora pulled herself onto the shack roof before turning around and offering a hand.

 

“I can manage.” He hauled himself up, less graceful than she’d managed it, but it still impressed her.

 

They’d been strange during the walk, with Brad being far more quiet than usual. She figured it had to do with nearing their destination. Hell, they could see the Prydwen, in the distance.

 

Was he regretting the end to whatever this was? Fuck, she was.

 

Nora laid back, folding her hands behind her head, staring up at the gaudy machine. “What’s it like up there?”

 

“It’s nice. Quiet, a little lonely, I suppose.”

 

“Sounds terrible.”

 

“Well, it is no Goodneighbor.” He cast her a soft smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

“Well, it could be if I went up there. I could smuggle enough booze and chems for even that place to be fun. You said Maxson runs it, right? I bet you anything I could sneak in under his nose.”

 

He snorted softly. “I bet you could.” He reached out and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. “Does that mean you’re considering visiting me?”

 

She didn’t pull away, gripping his hand for a moment. It was nice. Easy. Quiet. “Nah. We both know I’d get thrown into jail there, and I’d have no Nick to bail me out.”

 

“You’d have me.”

 

“Sure, but I doubt Maxson listens to a farming expert. Assholes like him are too self-important. Besides, with my past, they’d never let me past the front door.”

 

He sighed softly. Yeah, she didn’t like the idea of not seeing him, either.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” His thumb rubbed over the skin between her thumb and finger, slow, like he was memorizing it.

 

She took one more deep breath and rolled over, setting her knees on each sides of his hip. “Look, I don’t do subtle well, This seems like our last night before I drop you back with your buddies. You going to turn me down?”

 

He closed his eyes, like he was thinking. “This isn’t just a vice, right? Not just some itch for you?”

 

“Itching is the sign of a very bad hook-up.”

 

He didn’t speak, just opened his eyes to tell her he expected a real answer.

 

“No. I’m going to miss you, okay? I don’t want you to head off to your fucking airship without this.”

 

He slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her down to his lips.

 

#

 

Fuck Arthur Maxson. He didn’t want to be him, not tonight. Tomorrow would come too soon, and tomorrow he’d have to go back to his old life.

 

For one night, he wanted to be Brad. He wanted to have Nora beneath him, he wanted to slide inside her and feel the way she clung to him. And he was an asshole, but even if it was a lie, he’d have it.

 

Nora ground her hips down against him, and he smiled against her lips. Her desire drove him crazy, the way she knew what she wanted and had no issue demanding it.

 

She didn’t play coy, didn’t play hard to get. How refreshing.

 

She leaned back and pulled her shirt up and over her head. No bra, so she was exposed to his view.

 

“Beautiful,” he groaned, cupping her breasts with his hands. His thumbs brushed over her pebbled nipples before he rolled her over, placing her on her back. He leaned down and captured one nipple between his lips, toying with it.

 

“Fuck, Brad,” she moaned, fingers working the button of her pants. She gasped when he nipped at her before she wiggled her pants down, over her ass, but his position above her meant she couldn’t strip anymore.

 

Instead, she went to his pants. “Come on, hurry up.” Her hands pushed at his hips.

 

Arthur chuckled and released her nipple after one slow lick. “You have an appointment I don’t know about? Why do we have to hurry?”

 

She used her feet to push his pants down to her hips. “We have to hurry because you like to turn me down. If we wait too long, you’ll start using that brain of yours, and I’ll end up spending another night horny.”

 

“Are you kidding me? I think I’d slaughter anyone who tried to pull me away from you. Let’s slow down.”

 

She reached between them and cupped his cock, then wrapped her leg around his hip, angling herself up. “You’ve had me begging for days. Please, stop holding out on me.”

 

Arthur leaned down, burying his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. He wanted to remember every moment of this, needed to remember it. Somehow, he knew he’d never get this back, never have this again.

 

Her foot urged him forward, so Arthur pushed into her heat. “You know we could have played more, taken our time.” His words came out rough as he kept his body still, as he gave her time to adjust.

 

Her nails scored his back as she gripped him. Perfect. “You? Play? You know how to do that?”

 

He bit down on her neck in punishment.

 

Of course, she only moaned and jerked her hips, taking him deeper. “We’ll go slow later. Play later. Right now? I just need you to fuck me. I want to feel you take me, Brad. I’ve seen you fight, I’ve seen you wounded, I’ve seen you walk for hours. I want to see what else you can do with that body of yours.”

 

“How’d I get so lucky, huh? I think maybe crashing and almost dying was worth it to find you.”

 

She lifted her hands, sliding them behind his neck, looking up at him with that smile full of mischief. “You know, I’d given up finding anything real. Who the fuck expected I’d find you? I know this isn’t long term, but, thank you, Brad.”

 

The words dug into Arthur’s chest, which had gone tight. It was the thank you, the underlying want beneath it.

 

He was lying to her. He was having sex with her and she didn’t even know who he was.

 

His erection flagged, regret and panic beating at him.

 

He reached into her pack, into the place he knew she kept her chems. Med-x. He’d done enough to know how much it would take.

 

#

 

Nora woke with a gasp, the sun beating down on her. She sat up, looking for Brad.

 

She rubbed her hand against the ache in her leg as it came back to her. He’d drugged her. In the middle of fucking her, he’d shoved a syringe of med-x into her thigh and knocked her out.

 

Nora struggled to her feet, patting her pockets. He’d dressed her too, the asshole.

 

Then she found it. A note, in her pocket.

 

 

_Nora,_

 

_I’m sorry, but this will never work. I’ll have the caps I owe you sent to the Cambridge Police Station. Don’t try to follow me, I’ll be back in the Capital Wasteland before you could even get aboard the Prydwen._

 

He’d left her. The first person she’d wanted to keep, and he’d left her.

 

And fuck, it hurt.


	14. Chapter 14

 

Arthur closed his eyes, the Commonwealth spread beneath him tiring. Funny, it felt so much smaller from aboard the Prydwen than it had when he’d gone through it.

 

Was it the walking? Or was it Nora? He’d experienced more of it with her than he’d ever have on his own, seen parts of it he’d never have ventured into.

 

Without her, he’d never have gone into Goodneighbor. If circumstance had required it, he’d never have been able to sit with the mayor and have a drink. He’d never have seen the inside of Diamond City jail cell, or been able to see what an asshole that mayor was.

 

What was it about mayors that he couldn’t stand?

 

And he still had no idea who had helped in his crash. Kells felt it was an accident, but, hell, it didn’t feel like one. Not that he’d admitted much of what happened on his trip. That was the benefit of being Elder, he didn’t have to admit anything.

 

“Elder.”

 

Arthur sighed and turned to face the Scribe who stood tall, like they wanted to present the best side. “Yes, Scribe?”

 

“Paladin Danse has sent a report. He wanted to inform you that Nora Jacobs has not yet collected the caps.”

 

Of course she hadn’t. The woman held her grudges. He knew of no other person stubborn enough to turn down a thousand caps just because she was angry. Three weeks was a long time, and if she planned to pick up her payment, she would have done it by then.

 

But, he’d hurt her, hadn’t he? He knew it, but it seemed he’d hurt her no matter what. Better this way, to have her back to her own life, and out of his. He couldn’t take her into custody, but damnit, his responsibilities said he had to if they kept this up. He could only ignore her strategic value for so long before he could no longer stomach ignoring his job.

 

“Thank you.”

 

The Scribe nodded and hurried off. They all did that, hurried away to their jobs, to their lives. He thought back to the way Nora had sat with him, relaxed, easy.

 

He wanted that back. He needed it, and he’d failed to think about the things he needed for so long, it felt strange to admit it.

 

But he’d gone without needs many times. When out in the field, when you didn’t have food, you starved. When in a fight, no matter how tired, you didn’t sleep. You did what you had to do, even the intolerable.

 

And when living a life you hated, you gave up what you wanted because you had a destiny and responsibility to do it.

 

Even if it killed you.

 

 

#

 

Nora shoved the door to the Cambridge Police Station open hard enough it smacked into the wall and flew back at her.

 

A minigun was pointed in her face, but the sharp voice of Paladin Danse kept it from firing. “Hold on, Knight. This is Initiate Jacobs.”

 

“She’s Brotherhood?” The soldier who hadn’t yet lowered the gun scoffed the words as he looked at her, head to toe, face unimpressed.

 

Yeah, so maybe she wasn’t at her best, and even her best wasn’t that great on most days. The weeks since Brad left had been spent with alcohol, chems, and fighting. Anything to keep her moving, to keep her from thinking.

 

And worse? Deacon hadn’t come up with shit. No matter how he dug, he couldn’t get anything on anyone named Brad Carter, nothing about a farming expert. The man was a ghost. Then again, if he really was what he said, who would know fuck-all about some farmer? All he knew was that whatever the Brotherhood had been riled up about had settled down.

 

She figured someone had simply pissed in their cereal.

 

“Yes, she is. Stand down.” Danse held his arm out to usher her in. “I assume you’re here for your payment?”

 

“Fuck the payment. I don’t want it.”

 

“You’re turning down two thousand caps?”

 

“It was only supposed to be a thousand.”

 

“My orders said two. One for the job, and one as a bonus.” Danse’s voice was full of confusion, like he couldn’t imagine anyone offering Nora a bonus.

 

“The extra is for the sex, in case you’re wondering.”

 

Red colored his cheeks. “Initiate Jacobs, that is hardly appropriate.”

 

“No, it wasn’t, which is why it worth a thousand caps.” She waggled her eyebrow until he tore his gaze away and shook his head.

 

“So if you’re not here for the caps, why are you here? I haven’t seen you since the altercation with Rhys.”

 

“Since you threw me out, you mean?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d leave. I thought you’d cool off and return.”

 

She snorted. Right. “So, where is he? He can’t be here; the level of asshole is much lower than it should be.”

 

“He was sent back to the Capital Wasteland. My understanding is that his attitude was not appropriate for a position where he had to deal with locals.”

 

“He had an attitude problem? My, what a shocker.” She feigned surprised before smiling. “I’m here to take a ride on your nifty little vertibird.”

 

“I’m sorry, but those are for Brotherhood business only.”

 

“Yeah, trust me, I have some business with the Brotherhood. An asshole in your gear hit my settlement, threatened my people. I need to have a conversation with your Elder about boundaries.”

 

“The last conversation you had resulted in Rhys having multiple broken ribs. Why would I ever allow you near our Elder?”

 

“Afraid the precious last Maxson can’t handle little ol’ me?” She smiled sweetly and batted her eyelids.

 

Danse wasn’t swayed. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Maxson would be more than a match for you, Initiate. Or am I speaking to you as General?”

 

“Nora’s fine. Bitch if we’re on bad terms, sweetheart if you want something, and Mistress if we are really good terms.”

 

He took a deep breath and released it slowly, like he’d practiced this as a way to deal with her.

 

Nora took a step forward to stand beside him. She patted his back. “It’s okay. In and out, nice and slow. Dealing with me is always a little painful.”

 

“A little?”

 

“So why don’t you just let me on up into that lovely ship of yours and I’ll be Maxson’s problem instead of yours. If you’re lucky, he might just shoot me.”

 

The smile that slid across Danse’s normally stoic face had her laughing. Even he had a sadistic streak, it seemed.

 

“Very well. As General of the Minutemen, it’s best you meet with him. I’ll escort you personally, though. You’d fool anyone else into underestimating you.”

 

They boarded the vertibird, and Nora closed her eyes as she ignored the swaying of the machine.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“You know, I see these crashed a lot. The last one I dealt with, I pulled someone out of. If we were meant to fly we’d have wings.”

 

Danse released a soft laugh. “Try not to think about it.”

 

She dropped her head between her knees, since it was that or lose her lunch. “Did Brad Carter return to the Capital Wasteland?” Her voice was muffled by her position, but he must have heard her.

 

“I don’t know who that is.”

 

“It’s who paid me.”

 

“I don’t have any details about that. I only received orders to hold the caps for you. I was off the Prydwen a long time, so a lot of people came and went without me knowing.”

 

“Well, if he's there, you’ll recognize him.”

 

“How?”

 

She grinned. “He’ll be the one I throw over the side of the Prydwen.”


	15. Chapter 15

 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Nora groaned at the pile of her weapons already on the table. Her rifle, the pistol she’d gotten from Tommy Whispers body, her favorite blade, all her chems. They’d confiscated everything, even the pen she kept in her pocket. What were they so afraid of? That she’d write him a passive aggressive note?

 

It wasn’t as if she needed her weapons. She knew that a single aggressive move was her death, if not that of her settlers. Still, handing them over felt like pulling out her nails, like she was forced to disrobe. Being unarmed made her antsy.

 

“I’m sorry, Miss, but I’m not kidding. My orders, directly from Elder Maxson, are that you are to be thoroughly searched for any weaponry. He wants to take no risk in this meeting.”

 

He was just past that door, in his quarters, probably laughing his ass off at Nora having to go through this just for a meeting. She’d already expected him to be a jerk, but this little power play annoyed her further. There was no damned good reason for it other than to remind her of her place.

 

And didn’t that start this shit out bad? She was angry, and he was playing dominance games. It didn’t bode well for any sort of mutual satisfaction.

 

Did they think she’d shoot him in the middle of his ship? She was impulsive, not stupid.

 

Well, not that stupid.

 

Usually. 

 

She hadn’t seen Brad, not that she’d had much time to look. Paladin Danse had left her in the care of two men while he went to check in with Maxson and get approval for the meeting. Then, he’d said he had to return to the police station, and left her to the guards.

 

Was Brad somewhere on board? What would she do if she saw him? Probably something unwise.

 

“You know, your great-grandfather felt me up, you prick! You should be nicer to me; I could have been your great-grandmother!” She yelled through the door before dropping her belt on the table with a loud bang. “You know, they won’t even let me bring in my belt! The buckle is too pointy. You might get a cut on your precious finger from it.” She dropped her eyes to the guard. “Do I need to leave my sharp wit out here, too?”

 

“No, I believe you can keep that.” He smiled, and at least someone was charmed by her.

 

He was handsome. Clean, muscular, not overly annoyed by her. That last one was hard to find.

 

She smiled and leaned into him. “Are you offering cavity searches?”

 

He set a hand on her hip, leaning closer. “Maybe later, sweetheart.”

 

And Nora stilled at that. Brad’s words echoed in her head. Just vices that hollow you out. Nothing but an escape that will eventually leave you a shell. Fuck, if those few minutes on that roof with him hadn’t been enough for her to have a taste of something real, something deeper, something these flings couldn’t compete with.

 

She wanted to scream at him for ruining her, for making her realize she wanted more. How could he do that and then just disappear?

 

Something on her face must have clued the soldier in on her change of mood, because he took a step back. “Sorry, Miss. Guess I misread that. Well, go on in. You’re clean.”

 

“Trust me, I’m really not.”

 

Nora flashed another smile before opening the door, prepared to face some idiot paper pusher. Probably a scrawny, arrogant jerk who thought his Daddy’s name would carry him through life. Though, hadn’t it.

 

Sitting in a chair at the table was Brad.

 

Fuck this.

 

#

 

Arthur couldn’t help but smile. Sure, she looked like shit. A few bruises dotted her face, her hair escaping her pony tail in wild frizz, dirt caked on her arms, blood soaked into her clothing. Whatever she’d done the last three weeks hadn’t been easy.

 

Still, he’d seen nothing better in all his life.

 

“Hello, Nora.”

 

She said nothing, eyes wide.

 

But he supposed there was nothing to say. He could see the pieces fitting together. She looked around the room, looked back over her shoulder, as if expecting someone to jump out and let her in on the big joke.

 

When it all clicked into place, when she realized exactly who he was, and how much he’d lied to her, she went still.

 

At least until she leapt forward and knocked him out of his chair. He might have been able to react, to avoid it under normal circumstances, but he’d been too busy soaking in the sight of her.

 

And this was exactly why he’d been adamant that they disarm her, thoroughly. The woman was a powder keg, and if she’d had a gun, he had zero doubts that she’d have shot him.

 

They struck the floor, his breath coming out in a whoosh and the back of his head hitting the metal, pulling a groan from him. She threw a punch, catching him in the jaw, before her body was hauled off him by guards.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She screamed the words, struggling against their grip, kicking her feet out like she might reach him.

 

Arthur stood up, brushing off his coat and wincing as he felt his jaw. “I’m afraid not. Sorry for the surprise.”

 

“You’re Arthur Maxson? You fucking asshole, you just wait until they let me go.”

 

“Come on now, behave yourself. This doesn’t have to be difficult. Calm down, and we can have a conversation like adults.”

 

She yanked again, like she could break the grip of the two men who held her by her arms. After another moment, she stilled, chest rising and falling with her panting, erratic breaths.

 

“No, yeah. It’s okay. I’m fine, see.” She lifted her hands and stopped pulling. “See, we’re cool. It’s all good.”

 

Maxson nodded and the men released her.

 

And she came sailing right back at him.

 

So, this could have gone better.

#

 

 

Nora rested her back against the bars of her cell. 

 

She had showed Brad -no, Arthur- the Diamond City jail, it seemed fitting he show her the Prydwen jail. She laughed and shook her head. At least she'd landed a few good hits before they dragged her off.

 

So, this could have gone worse.


	16. Chapter 16

 

“Time to wake up, sweetheart.”

 

The voice drew a smile from Nora. Fuck, she’d wanted to hear that voice again, the way Brad would whisper into her ear, always a least a little annoyed.

 

She opened her eyes, and it all came back.

 

Not Brad. Arthur.

 

And she was in a fucking jail cell.

 

She groaned and rolled over, putting her back to him. “I think I’d rather go back to sleep.”

 

“Yeah, well, none of us get quite what we want.”

 

Nora peered over her shoulder and nodded toward the bruise on the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know, that makes me pretty damned happy.”

 

“Be reasonable.”

 

“What in our short history makes you think I’m capable of that?”

 

He sighed and couched down. “Are you just going to stay in there?”

 

“Seems like that’s more up to you than it is to me. I didn’t lock myself in here.”

 

“You might as well have. You walked in here and assaulted the leader of this ship. What did you think was going to happen?”

 

She grinned. “Revenge. Satisfaction. Well, not much satisfaction. Your last attempt was dismal.”

 

“Come on, Nora, let’s go have a chat.”

 

“I’m thinking ‘fuck’ and ‘you’, Brad. And pretty much in that order.” She sneered the name.

 

He leaned in closer. “You want to do this in public? Because, it seems like a private conversation might be in order, Fixer.”

 

Nora froze at the use of her railroad codename. She sat up and turned toward him. “Excuse me?”

 

“You heard me. I don’t think this is something you want discussed here. So why don’t you come with me, huh?”

 

And if there was anything that could curb her temper, it was when it might risk her friends.

 

 

#

 

 

Arthur shut the door to his quarters behind her, locking them in together.

 

Nora’s gaze took in the room, and grinned at the overturned chair and specks of blood from their earlier fight. Her viciousness shouldn’t have turned him on, but it did.

 

“How long have you known about me?” She didn’t look at him, just walked around the room, touching items, examining them. Did she actually care, or was this just a game to look uninterested?

 

“Since Goodneighbor. I overheard you and Deacon.”

 

“Can’t believe you didn’t have a guard pick me up. I mean, come on, a railroad agent has to be quite the find.”

 

He leaned against the door, arms crossed. “Believe it or not, Nora, I don’t want to see you locked up or interrogated. It’s why I tried to get you away from here. Leave it to you to tear apart my plans.”

 

“I don’t like plans. Doesn’t take much to fuck ‘em up.”

 

“Eleven minute?”

 

She winced, like the words cut, but recovered. “Exactly.”

 

“Why didn’t you take the caps?”

 

“I didn’t want your fucking caps. I’m not just some mercenary you can pay off to go away. I mean, thanks, didn’t think that pathetic attempt at sex was worth an extra grand, but whatever. I guess your sex life is pretty fucking dull.”

 

“I didn’t give you those because of the sex. I gave them to you, or, I tried to give them to you because you did the job. You kept me alive, did what you said you would even when you had no reason to. Hell, Deacon wanted you to leave me and you didn’t. Take the caps, please. You earned them.”

 

“You can take the caps and shove them straight up your ass, because I don’t want to touch a single one of them. I don’t want a fucking thing from you.”

 

He sighed. He wanted. . . something. He’d lived his life with people throwing themselves at his feet because of his name, his background. He didn’t expect that from her, hell, he’d be too afraid of her gnawing off his ankles, but he wanted something. He wanted to give her something, for her to see something good in him.

 

So far she’d helped him, but she hadn’t needed him for anything. Maybe it was some screwed up macho man thing, but he wanted her to need him.

 

“So what did you want, then? You were the one who came up here.”

 

She turned toward him, then, finally looking right at him. Damn it, why did he have to like that so much?

 

“Stop fucking with my settlements.”

 

“What?”

 

“Your boys showed up at Finch Farm and demanded a portion of their crops. When they turned them down, because that place barely makes enough to feed themselves, your boys threatened ‘em. That didn’t work, and they left a hole in the leg of their son.”

 

Arthur straightened his back, frowning. “There has to be a mistake. My men do not wound people for food. They have budgets to purchase food.” Even as he denied it, he made plans to check with Teagan, to get to the bottom of the story. Nora might be wrong, but she wasn’t lying. It had happened.

 

“Well they aren’t following the fucking rules then. Doesn’t matter. I’ve come to negotiate.”

 

“As General of the Minutemen?”

 

“That’s right.”

 

Arthur pointed at the chair beside the table. She plopped down into it, and he lifted his chair off the ground and sat there.

 

Nora pulled a paper from her pocket and spread it out on the table. It was a map of the commonwealth, with settlements circled. “You offer protection to specific farms and they’ve already agreed to give you a portion of their food in payment.”

 

“We don’t have the men.”

 

“Fuck you. This is the best you’re getting. Caps don’t mean anything if they’re dead, and if they’re dead, there goes your food sources. Look, I already mapped this out. These five settlements are all near the airport, meaning manpower to protect them is minimal, and transport of food is easy. Between those five, you’ll have more food than you can use. You don’t lose a single cap, no one dies or ends up with extra bullet holes, and you grow some good feelings in the Commonwealth which will make your job easier here.”

 

Arthur looked over the map. It was. . . good. Really, the plan was solid. She’d picked settlements with few people who could produce large amounts of food. Protecting them would take a few men, at most. They’d approached a few of those settlements already, but due to their ties with the minutemen, they’d turned down the offers.

 

“Why would they agree to this? Many of these farms already said no to us.”

 

“Because you were dealing with farmers, not me. Besides, these are too far outside of our realm of influence. They get attacked, it takes us too long to get there. This will work. This will bring peace.” Nora tapped her fingers on the map.

 

Arthur reached over and set his hand on top of hers. “Is this what you want?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then we have a deal.”

 

She nodded, then looked down at their hands. She licked her lips, then yanked her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

 

Arthur grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up against him. “Why not? You were begging me to touch you before.”

 

“That’s before I know what you were.”

 

“And what am I? Come on, Nora, I want to hear exactly what I am from a mercenary, chem-using, sex addict.”

 

She shoved him backward, and he hit the wall. She didn’t swing again, though, didn’t pull away. Instead, she leapt, wrapping her legs around his waist and her hands behind his neck. She bit down on his lip, hard, and blood coated his tongue. “You’re an arrogant boy who rides the coattails of his family’s name. A fancy lineage with nothing real underneath, nothing real to your name. You haven’t earned a fucking thing you have.”

 

He twisted them, slamming her back against the wall. She grunted, like it forced the air from her lungs.

 

“You have any idea how often I think about you? You haunt me at night, every damned night. Can’t get you out of my head.” He kissed her neck, smearing blood from his cut lip, and not caring a bit.

 

“I should have let you burn inside that vertibird. Should have just roasted marshmallows like I’d fucking planned.”

 

“Maybe. But since you didn’t, what do you say we stop playing this game and finally do what we’ve both wanted?”

 

She grasped his chin and forced his face to hers, so he was staring into her eyes. “Don’t get anything twisted here, Brad, you’re just a fucking vice. Just a way to scratch an itch.”

 

He hated that name on her lips, the way she said it, slow, like she was grinding it into him. The girl knew how to wound, that was for sure.

 

Not that he didn’t deserve it.

 

“If that’s all I can have of you, I’ll take it.”


	17. Chapter 17

Nora dug her nails into his shoulders, smiling when he groaned. She loved that bite of pain, the way he winced. “You take me near that bed of yours and you’ll find yourself missing an important appendage.”

 

“Sorry, but my leg isn’t going to hold you up for the whole time. Still not 100%.”

 

“Aren’t you optimistic? From what I remember, you don’t require that much time.”

 

He glared, turning them and setting her down hard on the table at the center of the room. She wondered, for a minute, what would happen to the map she’d had Nick replicate. If only he knew she was going to have sex on it, he’d never stop scolding her.

 

Fuck the map. Or fuck on top of it, as it were.

 

Arthur broke away long enough to pull off his coat, the stupid fucking coat he wore like armor, and toss it over a chairback. Next, he pulled his shirt up and over, and Nora found herself silent for the rare moment.

 

And his grin shook her out of it. He couldn’t get in her head, didn’t deserve that.

 

“Shut up and get your pants off.”

 

Meanwhile, she yanked her own pants off. Left the shirt on, who fucking cared about the shirt. She didn’t need foreplay and sweetness and hours of slow lovemaking. She wasn’t kidding, this was just bodies. This was tension and anger and two objects who had been headed this way from the start.

 

It wasn’t more. It couldn’t be more.

 

He prowled over once he’d stripped, but she refused to look at his face. No reason to see whatever was there, what feelings he had that would run across it like a damned movie. Didn’t matter. What she wanted, what she needed, was all neck down with him.

 

He set his hands on her thighs, parting them, and went to kneel. She dug her nails into his ribs, hard enough to draw another pained grunt from him, and pulled him over her.

 

“Let me,” he said, voice so low it was almost a beg. Fuck, it was probably as close to begging as he got.

 

“That’s not what this is about.”

 

He set a hand between her breasts and shoved her backward, down flat on the table. “Lay back. I’ve wanted to taste you and you’re going to let me, because you need me, so this is going to happen the way I want it to.”

 

She wanted to argue, but he leaned in and licked her cunt, hard, and she lost any train of thought about stopping him. He didn’t ease into anything, didn’t take it slow. Maybe he would have, if things were different, if they were different, but not then. He devoured her, owning her, sliding his tongue into her, then up along her slit, then tormenting her clit. She writhed on the table, but his grip on her thighs kept her still and open for whatever he wanted.

 

He drove her hard, until she shivered, so close. But she refused to come. There were too many things between them, too much pain. The idea of coming there, beneath him, it hurt. “Please, stop,” she gasped out.

 

And he did. Whatever he heard in her voice had him listening. He pulled back, eyes full of so many things she didn’t want to see, couldn’t see, that she tore her gaze away.

 

She used her foot, hooking it around his hip and pulling him closer. “Come on, then, Brad.”

 

He wrapped a hand in her hair and yanked, hard, until she met his gaze. “Use my name. I want to hear you say my real name when I slid into you.” He rubbed his cock against her, teasing her slit. She was wet, from his saliva and her own bodies readiness. It made each tiny breeze bring another shiver through her.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“I’m trying to. Just say it.” He tightened his grip and pushed hard against her clit. “I need to hear my name on your lips.”

 

She lifted her hips, seeking him, needing him. Just an itch, she told herself. Just a vice, a way to ground herself, a way to rid herself of all the things she didn’t want to feel. Who fucking cared about a name? What did it matter what she called him? She’d call him the King of England if that’s what she needed to call him. It didn’t matter.

 

“Arthur,” she whispered, rewarded by the feeling of him sliding deep into her.

 

Nora arched her back up, his grip in her hair keeping her head still, as he invaded her, as he took every inch of her. He rubbed a hand up her ribcage as he pulled out, then shoved in deep. She gasped. Was that his name on her lips again again?

 

Fuck, no, it couldn’t be.

 

He tried to kiss her, but she twisted her face away, ignoring how it hurt her scalp until he released his grip. He set a punishing pace that caused her, and the table, to slide with each deep thrust. She took each stroke, savored it, pushed into it.

 

He buried his face in her neck as he came, her name on his lips, a whisper, like a fucking prayer.

 

Nothing but an itch, she reminded herself.

 

Just a fucking itch.

 

 

#

 

Arthur woke the next day, reaching blindly for something, still too sleepy to know what. As he rose, he realized, he was looking for Nora.

 

She’d fallen asleep in his bed, spitting and hissing as usual, but too tired to argue much. She’d curled against him even as she’d cursed, seeking him even as she shoved him away.

 

But she’d snuck out while he slept, and there was no reason to go looking. He knew she’d run, that she was miles from the Prydwen already.

 

He rubbed his chest, trying to rid himself of the hollowness there, the space that ached like an open wound.

 

They were enemies now, and it killed him, because he knew he loved her.


	18. Chapter 18

“I’m not sure if you’re an idiot or a genius.”

 

“The line between the two is much thinner than most would believe.” Nora leaned her back against the wall of the Railroad HQ, Deacon’s shoulder pressed to hers, side by side.

 

“Well, screwing the Elder of the East Coast Brotherhood definitely puts you into one of those categories.”

 

“Come on, Deacon, you saw him. I doubt you’d have turned him down. So, it might be both.” She sighed and closed her eyes. It had been three weeks since she’d seen him, at least face to face. Three weeks since she’d snuck out of his quarters, stolen some power armor, and leapt off the side of the Prydwen. Well, she’d left the power armor at the airport, so it didn’t feel like she could be blamed for stealing it.

 

She’d borrowed it, at best.

 

Fuck, she missed him. She didn’t want to admit it, to put a word to the longing that refused to go away, the way she’d think about him, wonder what he was doing. Did he miss her? Was he lonely on that fucking metal deathtrap?

 

Then she’d see an image of him in that fucking battlecoat, on his ship, leading the Brotherhood, and she’d decide she didn’t miss him all that much.

 

There couldn’t be anything between them, no matter how much either might wish it. She’d managed a truce between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood, but no such truce with the Railroad would be possible. They were completely opposed in their goals, and middle ground seemed impossible.

 

This was just biding time, just planning attacks until one of them won.

 

And no matter how she felt about him, she had to win.

 

#

 

“What the hell?” Arthur yanked his hand back from the radio in his room, fingers tingling from the shock.  He shook his hand out, trying to get the feeling back into it.

 

“That’s the third time this week,” Danse noted. “That’s more than simple coincidence.”

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” Nothing except Nora.

 

It had to be her.

 

Over the past three weeks he’d been shocked by nearly every piece of electrical equipment in his room. He’d found his alcohol bottles filled with a random assortment of liquids, his weapons painted bright colors with flowers, and every chair he used seemed to break, a careful assessment showing missing bolts.

 

No one had seen her come or go, but there was no other explanation. Nora wanted revenge, and it seemed she planned to drive him insane until she got it.

 

Some petty part of his was pleased. He smiled, thinking about the fact that she took time out of her schedule to sneak onto his ship just to pester him. That had to mean something, right? If she’d written him off entirely, she’d be gone. At least she was thinking about him, at least she cared enough to torment him.

 

Or perhaps he was just a pathetic fool clinging to scraps, so desperate for any shred of attention that he’d latch onto even hatred.

 

“It’s Nora, isn’t it?” Danse leaned against the doorway of Arthur’s quarters.

 

Danse was older than Arthur, and Arthur was his superior, but they’d developed a friendship between them over the years. It was the only real friendship Arthur had created.

 

“Yes, I believe so.”

 

“Women hold nasty grudges when you break their hearts.”

 

“So you know?”

 

Danse shrugged before taking a seat across from Arthur. “I can make some guesses. Brad Carter, I take it?”

 

“I had no choice but to lie. What was I supposed to do, Danse?”

 

“I didn’t say you were wrong. Sometimes no one is wrong and things still don’t work out. And when one of the two people is a raving lunatic, the odds of it not working out go up dramatically.”

 

“She isn’t that bad.”

 

“You threw her in a cell. I’m not sure there are many great romances that start that way.” Danse leaned back in the chair. “So tell me what it is about her that has you so smitten, because I’ve known you a long time, and I’ve never seen you like this.”

 

Arthur tapped his fingers against the table, trying to figure out how to explain it. How to say things he didn’t want to say to anyone. “She’s everything I didn’t get to be. She’s passionate, and careless, and she doesn’t care what people think about her. I never got to be those things, and when I see them in her, I realize how much I want that.”

 

“But where could this go? She isn’t Maxson material, you know that. Can you imagine taking her back to the Citadel? Can you see her raising the next in the Maxson line? You know better than thinking that could ever work.”

 

Yeah, Arthur knew it. Even if the Brotherhood accepted her, which had almost no hope, she’d be a constant source of conflict. She’d never act the way a Maxson wife would be expected to act, she’d never raise the Maxson’s that needed raising.

 

She’d never send her sons off to the Citadel to be raised by others. No, she’d fight tooth and nail to keep her children with her, tearing apart anything that tried to steal them away.

 

And damn it, he loved that about her, but it would never work in his world.

 

“I know. That’s why I’ve let her go. I let her go when I returned to the Prydwen, and I let her go again after she was let out of her cell.”

 

“So what will you do now?”

 

Arthur sighed, took a bite from the bowl of food in front of him, and promptly spit it out. He shuddered to consider what she’d managed to mix in with the oatmeal.

 

“I think I’ll find a food tester.”


	19. Chapter 19

 

Arthur pulled his shoulders back as he took in Bunker Hill. It didn’t have the same grandness as Diamond City, little more than a hill of shacks surrounded by a fence, but it appeared to be the hub of commerce in the Eastern edge of the Commonwealth.

 

Which meant he needed to secure trade agreements, and if he’d learned anything, it was that doing things in person had its advantages.

 

Like him getting of the ship.

 

After his discussion with Danse the night before, he’d laid in his bed and stared at walls that closed in on him. He needed to get out, to breathe. Each day on that ship had been harder, longer. He craved going out, sleeping in the open, being alone.

 

Anything but being trapped in that ship.

 

“Elder, he’s ready to see you.” Paladin Danse took position by Arthur’s side. Security was not Danse’s normal job, but he’d insisted when he heard Arthur planned on going into the Commonwealth to secure trade arrangements. Of course, there was no soldier Arthur would trust more at his back than Danse.

 

It helped make this as safe as possible. Arthur wasn’t stupid.

 

Arthur nodded and walked into the shack.

 

#

 

Nora glared from her position on the roof of the Bunker Hill Inn, watching Arthur disappear into the building, Danse standing watch by the door.

 

Was there no where she could avoid him?

 

No, of course not, because Lord Maxson was fucking everywhere. Even when it wasn’t his face, it was that of his soldiers. She couldn’t turn around without a reminder of him.

 

“Well what do we have here?” Deacon sat beside Nora. “Amazed he left his ship. Seems like a bad security choice. Up there he’s safe. Well, from everything but you.”

 

“He’s setting up trade routes. No other reason to come here.”

 

“Well that’s unfortunate. It means the Brotherhood is planning on staying for a while.” Deacon hesitated a moment before continuing, voice low. “You know, a few bullets would end Maxson, and probably scatter the Brotherhood. I could do it, you wouldn’t have to. Just don’t tell me no. Walk away, and I’ll end this.”

 

Nora imagined that. The shot would be easy for Deacon; the sniper had amazing aim. One pull of a trigger and the Brotherhood influence would be shattered. No more railroad agents’ lives at risk, no more of this damned game. One chess piece off the board.

 

“No.”

 

“Fixer, be careful. Don’t get attached, because this is going to end badly. The more you get involved, the hard it’s going to be.”

 

He was right, but she couldn’t kill Arthur. Not like this, especially. He deserved. . . more. If she had to kill him, it would be face to face, and she’d do it her fucking self. She wasn’t a coward.

 

“Go on, Deacon. You aren’t needed here.”

 

He grabbed her arm. “You need to get your head straight. I don’t want to lose you because of some infatuation, okay?”

 

“Yeah, I understand. I’m not going to kill someone in cold blood. If we do that, we aren’t worth saving anyway. I’ll catch up with you later.”

 

He left, and Nora continued to watch the building. Danse fidgeted, eyes taking in every person who moved, sizing them up. She hated to admit it, but she liked him. Even after he’d thrown her out.

 

She had to give it to someone who committed to their kind of crazy. Hers was snark and recklessness. His was order and dedication. Two sides of the same unstable coin, both devoted to things that would eventually kill them.

 

Someone moving caught Nora’s attention. To the left, across the settlement, a man in a black coat.

 

No, two men.

 

Fuck, three.

 

And she’d seen enough to know those were not men. They wore the same outfits as the man she'd seen in Kellogg's memory, as the man she'd killed and then cut a chip from his neck.

 

They were coursers.

 

No chance it was a coincidence, not that they show up right when Elder Arthur Maxson happened to be in Bunker Hill.

 

It was an ambush. What did that mean for Nora? She could turn around and walk out. It wasn’t murder, and the Brotherhood issue would be solved.

 

Just turn around and walk away. It wasn’t her problem. He wanted to be a fool and come out here, he could deal with the fucking consequences.

 

Nora stood up and turned around.

 

#

 

Arthur followed Danse into the marketplace. The agreement worked well enough, and because of the deals Bunker Hill had with the raiders, issues there should lessen as well.

 

All in all, a good meeting. The Brotherhood was actually making progress. They were setting up alliances, creating bonds.

 

He peered around, looking for threats.

 

Who was he kidding? He was hoping to catch a glimpse of Nora. Not that he expected her to be there. Hell, who knew if she’d ever been there. He just couldn’t help it, the way he searched the face of each stranger, the moment of excitement when he saw a female form and the let down when he saw it wasn’t her.

 

“We should go,” Danse said, taking a spot beside Arthur. The Paladin’s voice had gone hard.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“People have moved into positions at the exits of the market. I’m afraid we might be looking at an ambush.”

 

Arthur let nothing show on his face, nodding. “What do we have?”

 

“Just you and me in here. The rest of the squad is outside. They’ll fight their way in as soon as they hear a problem, but we will need to survive until then.”

 

“All right. The bar makes good cover. I don’t want any civilian casualties, are we clear?”

 

“Yes, Elder. I’m going to suggest you move behind that bar immediately. We wouldn’t want you catching a stray bullet.”

 

“I’m not hiding behind a bar.”

 

“With all due respect, Elder, shut up and duck.”

 

And that’s when everything went to hell.

 

Arthur dove over the bar, taking the merchant to the ground. “Stay down,” he ordered the man.

 

Metal groaned as laser blasts his Danse’s power armor. Arthur pulled his own pistol from his coat. He peered over the edge of the bar.

 

Two men and a few synths.

 

Institute.

 

He took a deep breath, relieved. Better Institute than Railroad. He had nightmares about ending up across battle lines from Nora, having to decide to either kill her or let her kill him.

 

At least that horror wasn’t coming true, not today.

 

Arthur shot at two synths, one after the other. Both collapsed into heaps on the concrete. One man in a black coat laid on the floor, unmoving, in a puddle of blood. Another exchanged gunfire with Danse, but few could stand against power armor.

 

The rest of the squad came through the front entrance, mowing down the remaining synths.

 

Arthur stood to find himself face to face with another man, wearing the same black coat as the others, pointing a rifle against Arthur’s chest.

 

“Coming out of your stronghold was foolish, Elder Maxson.”

 

“Your forces have already been killed. Walk away.”

 

The man peered at the bodies like they meant nothing. “Broken tools, nothing else. To Institute Coursers, the mission is the only thing that matters.”

 

Arthur put his chest out, standing tall. If he died here, he’d die on his feet.

 

The firing of a gun tore the tense silence apart, and the courser’s body flew against the wall.

 

Above the market, in the rafters, Nora aimed down the sights of her rifle.

 

She’d saved him.

 

And then she unloaded a second shot that hit inches from his foot.

 

Same old Nora.

 

A brotherhood soldier lifted his gun to aim at her.

 

“Stop! She’s a friendly,” Arthur shouted.

 

“I am so not friendly,” Nora yelled back. “You should consider me extraordinarily hostile!”


	20. Chapter 20

 

Nora refused to look at Arthur. Looking at him admitted that she'd saved him, and she didn't want to do that, couldn't do it. They’d taken over the small shack he’d had the meeting in, an apology for the ambush, she supposed. Not that Bunker Hill was responsible for it, at least not on purpose.

 

“Thank you,” he said.

 

“You’re better at gratitude than you used to be.”

 

“I’ve had some practice. Nice shot, by the way.”

 

“Not really. I was aiming for you.”

 

He set a hand on her hip from behind her, his body looming, so close, way too tempting. “Liar.” He placed his other hand on her other hip, pulling her back against him. “I missed you.”

 

“Maybe, but I bet you’ve been thinking about me.”

 

“Every time I try to drink, I think about you. Every time something shocks me.”

 

She grinned. “Good to know I’m memorable.”

 

His hands slid over her stomach, then up her ribcage. He paused. “Have you lost weight?”

 

“No. Trust me, you didn’t make me lose my appetite. You over estimate your charm.”

 

Arthur’s lips pressed against her neck as his hand slid up higher and cupped her breast through her shirt. “Why did you save me?”

 

“Because I’m not done tormenting you. No one gets to play with my toys.”

 

“You think of me as yours? I’m flattered.”

 

She pulled from his grip. “Why are you here?”

 

“Trade agreements.”

 

“No, why are you here, in this room. I saved you, fine, give me a wave and move on. Are you just hoping to get another quick lay out me? I guess it's a good bet. You said it yourself, I’m just a sex addict. Want me to go ahead and strip down to make it easier?”

 

He ran his hand over his head, through his hair. “I’m sorry I said that. I was angry.”

 

“But you weren’t wrong, were you? Except you went and fucked up all of that for me. You ruined it.” Nora shoved Arthur’s shoulders.

 

“What did I do?”

 

“I can’t sleep, I can’t settle. I can’t stand the idea of fucking anyone and even the smell of alcohol makes my stomach turn. You stole everything from me.”

 

“And how is any of that my fault?”

 

“I’d accepted my life before you. Nate was gone, my baby gone, I was ready to just fight and fuck my way through life until I died. Then you showed up and made me want. . .” she stopped, tearing her gaze away.

 

Arthur cupped her chin in his hand, bringing her eyes back to his. “Want what?”

 

“More. Now the things that were enough before aren’t enough. Now they don't scratch the itch.”

 

He leaned down and kissed her, pulling her against him. She should shove him away, should tell him to fuck himself because she wasn’t going to do it, but she couldn’t. It felt too good, too right.

 

But she needed to stay in control. She couldn’t let herself get lost in him, in whatever fantasy he was promising that she’d never get. Buying into it would only hurt more.

 

She broke the kiss, then shoved him backward until he sat in a chair. She sunk to her knees in front of him and unfastened the buttons to his pants.

 

He groaned when she grasped his cock and pulled him from the confines of his pants. She didn’t need to strip him, didn’t need to make this any more personal. Maybe this would be enough for her to cast him away, finally. One more quick moment of passion between them and she would have it out of her system.

 

She knew it was a lie, but she tried to convince herself of it.

 

Arthur ran his fingers through her hair, his face too soft, too open. She didn’t want to see that.

 

Instead, she leaned down and drug her tongue up the side of his shaft, focusing all her attention on the only part of him that mattered.

 

She stroked him, using her tongue on the head of his cock. He groaned, hand still in her hair, a soft touch, nothing like the rough grip of the night they’d spent together. She wanted that anger back.

 

Anger was easier than kindness. She understood anger, could process anger. Anger washed off her. Kindness chipped away at her.

 

She tried to push those thoughts away she slid him into her mouth. He didn’t cup the back of her head and force her further, as so many men tried to do. He drug a thumb along her cheek, a caress. She shut her eyes against the touch, against it all, and focused only on his cock, on the weight of it, the way it rested in her mouth.

 

She took him deeper, working the base with her hand in tight, even movements. His thighs began to twitch, and she knew he wanted to thrust.

 

He didn’t; he stayed still and let her work. Leave it to him to surprise her.

 

Nora swirled her tongue around his length, then slid him as far back as she could take. His hips jerked forward, tiny thrusts that said he was close to coming.

 

“You probably want to pull off, I’m about there,” he said, voice low and rough and wonderful. She shuddered at the want in it, the things it promised.

 

Nora ignored him and only took him deeper, swallowing to prevent gagging. His hand tightened in her hair as he came.

 

She swallowed everything before sliding her lips off him, slow. Her forehead rested against his strong thigh, his hand stroking through her hair, a soft touch that broke her.

 

Why couldn’t they just be fucking different?

 

#

 

Arthur slowed his breathing while he watched her rest. He wanted to pull her into his lap, to wrap his arms around her and swear he’d never let go. He knew nothing else would happen, though. It was in the tension of her shoulders. She was strung tight, desperate to run away again. Holding onto her now would be like trying to hold a stray mutt. You wouldn’t do anything but lose some flesh.

 

Nora didn’t disappoint. She rubbed her face against his leg then pulled away, refusing to look at him. “Try not to get killed, huh? Next time I might just let them take the shot.”

 

She turned and fled, and he let her go.

 

A wet patch on the thigh of his jeans caught his attention, the place where she’d pressed her face.

 

The place where Nora had wiped her tears away.


	21. Chapter 21

 

Arthur lifted the beer, drinking the remaining contents in a gulp. At least here, in the Dugout Inn, he didn’t have to worry about lake water or mirelurk piss being in his alcohol. To his knowledge, Nora wasn’t in town, if his untampered with drinks meant anything.

 

And what was Arthur doing there? After the ambush in Bunker Hill, Danse had had himself quite the hissyfit about another outing.

 

After another week, however, Arthur couldn’t handle the Prydwen a moment longer. The idea he might see Nora, that she might be in Diamond City while he was, well that was just a bonus.

 

He’d come in his gear, with a Brotherhood escort, since he feared for the Paladin’s heart if he did any less. His first trip though, he’d been unknown. Blending in had been easy. Now, however, there was little point in pretending he was anything but what he was.

 

The men he’d brought stood at the back of the bar, like metal statues overlooking the patrons, ready to jump into action. Another two stood outside the door, watching for signs of an ambush.

 

The barkeep would never have allowed it if Arthur hadn’t offered a hefty sum of caps for the inconvenience.

 

 “Well, well.” Nick Valentine sat down across the table from Arthur.

 

One of the Brotherhood escorts started to come forward, but a lifted hand from Arthur had him returning to his place.

 

“Hello, synth.”

 

“That’s where we are, huh? Okay then, Brotherhood. Nora isn’t here, if that’s who you’re looking to screw with.”

 

“I’m here on business. I’m not looking for trouble.”

 

Nick leaned back in his seat and lit a cigarette. “I gotta wonder how you got under her skin. I’ve seen that girl take on things you couldn’t imagine. Legend has it you got that pretty little reminder,” Nick indicated the Arthur’s scar with his cigarette, “from a Deathclaw. That right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, I’ve seen Nora slaughter Deathclaws and not break a sweat. So, how’d someone like you break her?”

 

The barkeep set another beer on the table before he hurried away, and Arthur took the chance to take a drink, thinking about his answer.

 

“I don’t mean to break her. I keep trying to let her go, but she keeps ending up right back here.”

 

Nick let out a laugh, full of less humor and more anger. “Yeah, she never has made good choices. She’s like family, sort of like the only family I got, and I’m tired of seeing her hurting.”

 

Arthur stared down at Nick’s metal hand, then at his own flesh and blood one. So, different and yet so damned similar. Both trying to help Nora when she refused to help herself.

 

“I don’t know how to stop hurting her. Don’t know how to fix this.”

 

Smoke drifted from the synths lips, some escaping from the hole at his jaw. His yellow eyes stared at Arthur, as if he could see through all the lies he wore, all the bullshit that came with his name. It was like the synth could see straight into the man he really was, whoever that happened to be. “I don’t think I know how either. But, at least I know you’re hurting, too. I might be petty, but that helps me rest easier.”

 

The fell into silence, the buzz of the few people in the bar taking over, letting them blend into just another two people in a sea of people.

 

“A vault girl? Seriously?” The words came out slurred from a drunk across the room.

 

Both Nick and Arthur’s eyes zeroed in on the man who answered.

 

“Fuck, yes. Skinny, hair a bit too short, not that pretty. But what she lacks in looks she makes up in ability.” He leered, slamming his glass on the table hard enough some spilled over the edge and onto his hand. “I ain’t the only one, either. That girl’s been around. Doesn’t take much to get her going, and takes no prodding at all.”

 

Arthur tore his gaze away from the table. There was no way he was talking about anyone other than Nora. Not a lot of vault girls running around. He tried to steady his breathing, to remind himself he was an Elder, not some drunken buffoon. He couldn’t react, he had an image to uphold.

 

Nick flicked the ash of his cigarette onto the floor and cocked up one of his eyebrow ridges.

 

The men continued. “You gotta point her out to me. You think she’ll take us both? Fuck, I always wanted to do that, but girls don’t like to much.”

 

“Trust me, she’s such a whore she’ll do anything. Sluts like that, they’re just good for one thing I think they know it. One wink and she’s wet as a fucking lake, that one.”

 

“Why don’t you keep those thoughts to yourself,” Arthur found himself snapping before he could stop himself.

 

The man stood, turning around. “Excuse me? I’m just having a conversation here with my buddy. You and that freak can stay out of it.”

 

Arthur didn’t stand, didn’t even look away from Nick, like maybe if he stared at the synth he’d stay calm. “You’re talking about a lady, one who was unlucky enough to sleep with you. You ought to show some gratitude and keep the rest quiet.”  

 

“That what this about? You know her or something? You on the very long fucking list of people she’s fucked? Don’t think you’re special, cupcake, she fucks anything that moves. So how about you drag your sorry ass out of here, huh? I’ll make sure I fuck her extra hard next time, just for you.”

 

And there went the rest of Arthur’s restraint.

 

#

 

“You know, the last time I was in here, I had better company.” Arthur rubbed at his jaw where he’d taken a hit.

 

Nick grinned from where he sat, across the cell of the now very family Diamond City jail. “Hey, we can’t all be as charming as her.”

 

“Thank God for that, I don’t think the commonwealth would survive more than one of her.” Arthur accepted a cigarette from Nick. “You know, never figured I’d end up in jail with you, of all people.”

 

Nick laughed and lit Arthur’s cigarette. “Nothing like bar fights to make strange friendships. Besides, there’s only one person who’s going to come bail us out, and I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she see’s the two of us in here.”


	22. Chapter 22

“You need to fix this.” Danse jammed a finger against Nora’s chest as she walked up to the security building in Diamond City.

 

“For once, this wasn’t my fuck up, Danse. I wasn’t even in town when it happened. You’re the one who let him get himself locked up, not me. You’ve got the men, why is he even in there?”

 

Danse took a step back and crossed his arms. “Maxson forbid us from interfering. When security broke up the fight, he told us to stand down. If we got involved there was no way it wouldn’t end with civilian casualties.”

 

Nora shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She hadn’t slept well, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of being exhausted. All the time. The fact she’d let Arthur crawl inside her skin like that, that she’d let him bother her this much, it stung. She was stronger than that.

 

“Why was there even a fight? Arthur isn’t hot-headed.”

 

“I wasn’t inside the bar at the time. My understanding is that he overheard a conversation and didn’t care for it.”

 

“What? Someone talking about ghoul fucking or something?”

 

Danse narrowed his eyes. “No, they were insulting you, actually. Someone was making jokes about having slept with you, and Maxson decided to shut him up.”

 

Nora took a step backward, frowning. He’d gotten himself thrown in jail over defending her? That was stupid, and short sighted, and foolish. . .

 

And a little sweet.

 

“So this is your fault, Nora. Go in there and fix this.”

 

Nora sighed, rubbing her head, trying to find the energy to deal with this. She plastered a smile across her lips and strolled in.

 

 

#

 

Arthur lifted his head as footsteps drifted down the long corridor. Nora walked in, and even though it had been only a week since he’d last saw her, he tried to remember every detail. Her hair, pulled back, like always, her eyes darker.

 

She looked. . . tired, like the smile she wore was more for show.

 

Though, she when spotted him, the smile reached her eyes.

 

And didn’t that help?

 

“Got to say, didn’t expect to have to bail either of you out, let alone you two together.” She crossed her arms and cocked one hip out, eyebrow lifted like she was scolding them.

 

“I think you owe me, Doll. I’ve done this for you plenty of times.” Nick leaned against the cell bars, grinning.

 

“You always blame things on me, Nick, but I wasn’t even here for this. In fact, I think I’m insulted. You decide to go rogue and get yourself in jail and you don’t even wait for me? Worse, you drag poor Arthur into this.”

 

Both men started to argue, Nick for being considered at fault and Arthur for bristling about being drug anywhere.

 

Nora turned to the guard. “Where are the men they fought with? You can’t tell me they were the only ones arrested.”

 

“Well, the men are at Dr. Suns, recovering.”

 

Arthur smiled at the news. Yeah, he and Nick had made a good team. He hadn’t expected the synth to be scrappy, but he held his own. What had started out as a nice, even fight of two against two had quickly escalated as more jumped in. Arthur had no idea how many it had ended with, he just knew he and Nick still stood at the end, until the guards took them in.

 

“Would you let them out?”

 

The guard shook his head. “Sorry, Nora. They caused a huge brawl. Mayor is pissed.”

 

“The Mayor can kiss my ass. Vadim won’t care and it was his bar.”

 

“I adore you, sweetheart, but I can’t just let them out because you say so.”

 

Arthur sighed, resigning himself to a longer stay. They couldn’t keep him there forever, but they could make him miserable a while.

 

Though, he had to admit, right then it felt better than heading back to the Prydwen.

 

Nora didn’t give in so easily. “Who saved your cat, Billy? When everyone else wrote him off, who tracked him down?”

 

The guard rubbed the back of his neck. “You did.”

 

“And who got your Mom meds when she got sick? Was it the Mayor?”

 

“No, Nora, it was you.”

 

“So what are you going to do?”

 

He took in a deep breath. “I’m gonna let ‘em out.”

 

“That’s right. Now, come on boys, we need to go have a discussion about how we behave in public. I do not want a repeat of this.”

 

Arthur walked up to her, then leaned into her space when the cell was unlocked. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”

 

“Yeah, probably.” She smiled before turning around and walking out.

 

#

 

Nora tossed Arthur a can of purified water. She knew from experience the jail didn’t like handing out much of anything. He had to be thirsty.

 

Nick had headed to his office, ready to take his own scolding from Ellie. No reason for Nora to help out there, especially since every time she tried to be serious she could only grin and the sight the two had made.

 

“I seem to be thanking you a lot,” Arthur said from his spot on the couch.

 

“If you weren’t such a damsel in distress, you wouldn’t have to.”

 

Arthur patted the couch beside him. “Come and sit. You look tired. Are you not sleeping well?”

 

Nora plopped down on the couch. She wanted to keep him at a distance, but fuck, she was too tired for that. She leaned against his arm. “No, not really.”

 

He slid an arm around her, slowly, like he expected her to pull away. She chalked her submission up to her not feeling well. She’d go back to hissing tomorrow.

 

“You could always sleep on the Prydwen. You don’t look great, Nora. You look tired and I’m quite sure you’ve lost weight, now.”

 

“Right, because being locked on a floating death trap is the route to a good night of rest.” She made a point of rolling her eyes. “So why did you get into that fight?” She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it, wanted to understand it.

 

He shrugged. “You know how it is. You drink a little much and things happen.”

 

Liar. Still, she didn’t push. Anything he could say would just piss her off, and her temper felt shorter than usual, and it wasn’t long to being with.

 

A knock on the door, then it opened and Danse walked in. “We have to get going, Elder.”

 

Arthur sighed and stood, pulling away from Nora. “Of course. Thank you again, Nora.”

 

Nora frowned at the unhappy lines of Arthur’s lips. “You don’t want to go, so why are you?”

 

Danse answered. “Because he has to. He has responsibilities aboard the Prydwen, responsibilities that have already been pushed off because of you.”

 

Arthur cast a vicious look at Danse. “Paladin, watch yourself.”

 

Danse straightened his back. “Of course, Elder. Permission to speak candidly?”

 

“Denied.”

 

“Too bad, you both need to hear it. Whatever this is, it is doomed. Nora, do you really think you could fit into Brotherhood life? Be honest, could you marry him and give him children? Could you be the wife he needs?”

 

Nora looked away. No, she knew it was true.

 

Danse didn’t stop. “And you, Arthur, are you ready to give up your mission? You both are foolish if you think I don’t already know what is going on. Nora is connected to the railroad. So, Arthur, will you let the railroad escape? No? Then you’ll have to fight them. That means you two will be on opposite sides of this war. There’s no way around that. The more attached you get, the harder this will be for you both.”

 

“Stay out of it, Danse.” Arthur’s voice was quiet, like he’d come to the same conclusion but he didn’t care for anyone saying it out loud.

 

“He’s right,” Nora whispered. “It’s what I’ve been saying all along. I admit it, I wish things were different. I wish there was some way for this to work, but there isn’t. I’m not going to stand down and neither are you. So, what? Are we going to fuck and play house until one of us kills the other?”

 

“Well figure it out.” Arthur started to pace. “We’ll figure something out. Damnit, Nora, I love you! For the first time in my whole life I want something of my own. Not something for the brotherhood, or for the Maxson’s, or anything else. I just want you.” He reached out and pressed his hands against cheeks, holding her as he pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m Arthur Maxson, I can figure this out.”

 

Dizziness hit Nora. Fuck, why couldn’t he get it? Why wouldn’t he see that Danse was right, that they needed to end this now. “Even you have your limits, Arthur.”

 

“Not when it comes to you.”

 

Nora pulled away and stumbled, catching her hand on the wall. The dizziness got worse, room spinning. Then her knees gave out, and darkness took her.

 

#

 

Nora collapsed into a heap on the floor. Arthur rushed over, checking her pulse. Fast, but steady. He patted her down, looking for a wound. Had she been injured?

 

“What’s wrong with her?” Danse knelt beside him, gaze scouring Nora in the methodical way Arthur should have used.

 

But panic beat at him, he couldn’t be calm, couldn’t be collected.

 

Arthur lifted her, pulling her against his chest. “I don’t know, but I’m damn well going to find out. Let’s get her to the Prydwen.”


	23. Chapter 23

 

“Are you sure? There is no way this is a mistake?” Arthur stood outside the room where Nora rested, across from Cade. She’d woken up and cursed at him for bringing her there, but while the tests ran, she’d fallen back asleep. Clearly, she needed the rest.

 

“Yes, Elder. Given the weight loss, the dizziness, the nausea she admitted to, there is no question. Bloodwork says she is about six weeks along.”

 

Arthur took a deep breath. Six weeks. The time in his quarters, after she’d realized who he was, when he’d screwed her on top of a table. What a disaster. Something about it bothered him, as if the sex that created a baby should have been loving, gentle, not that anger fueled mess. It shouldn’t have happened like that. Hell, it shouldn’t have happened at all. “Is she healthy? Is the baby? Why did she pass out?”

 

Cade’s gaze roamed the paperwork in his hands. “She appears to be. Her numbers are good, and the symptoms are normal for this point in a pregnancy. She passed out because of low blood pressure and malnutrition, it is not uncommon. We have vitamins, and she will need to rest more and eat better. Please, ensure she eats. It can help with the nausea. I’ll have a scribe bring bland foods, they’ll be easier on her stomach. When she wakes up, we can perform an ultrasound and additional testing.”

 

She could have been with someone else, but Arthur knew somehow, the child was his. She’d all but admitted that she’d hadn’t been with anyone else since him. She’d been too angry to be lying about it. Which meant Nora carried the next Maxson.

 

Arthur rubbed his eyes. She wasn’t going to take the news well. “Maybe we should disarm her before anyone gives her the news.”

 

Cade frowned. “Pregnancy is rare. Most women try for years to conceive, and most aren’t able to. I can’t imagine any woman reacting badly if they’re fortunate enough to fall pregnant.”

 

“Then you don’t know her very well. This is going to be a shock for her, and I’d prefer she didn’t put holes in whoever gives her the news, especially since it will probably be me.”

 

Cade wrote something in the notes, and Arthur grinned when he read it.

 

_Patient is reported to be difficult._

 

What an understatement.

 

 

#

 

 

Nora woke up, the numbers on her pipboy letting her know she’d slept for eight hours. She groaned as she sat up.

 

“Easy there,” Arthur said, helping her up with a hand at her back.

 

Nora shrugged off the touch. “I can sit on my own, thank you very much.”

 

He stepped back and sat in a chair beside the bed. Judging from his face, and his wrinkled shirt, she’d guessed he’d sat in that chair the whole time she’d spent sleeping. She wanted to yell at him for the stupid sentimentality, but knowing he’d watched over her warmed some strange part of her, made her relax.

 

“Is your doctor done poking and prodding me yet? Can I go?”

 

He nodded. “He’s finished the first round of testing, yes.” Tension laced his voice, tension that radiated through his body as well. So, it wasn’t good news.

 

“Okay, so, out with it.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re being coy. You aren’t coy. What terrible disease did I pick up? I always figured radiation would end up fucking me. Probably some sort of weird cancer in my brain, right? Can I blame my bad choices on it?” She smiled, but he offered nothing in return.

 

He stayed silent, and Nora fidgeted beneath the intensity of his gaze.

 

Fuck, what did they find? She wasn’t kidding, she’d always expected to come down with something horrible. You didn’t go two hundred years out of your time without biology screwing you over. Maybe it was the cryostasis, some flaw. Maybe she’d start aging all of a sudden, and end up two hundred and twenty years old overnight.

 

She lowered her voice. “You’re scaring me, Arthur. What did Cade say? What do I have?”

 

Arthur took a deep breath, before meeting her gaze. “You’re pregnant, Nora.”

 

 

#

 

Arthur expected her to rage, to scream at him, to do something. She did none of that. Her gaze moved from him to the wall, and she just, stopped.

 

She didn’t move, didn’t speak, hell, he wasn’t sure if she was even breathing. It was like the entire world froze between moments, like she’d gotten stuck and couldn’t get going again.

 

“You’re about six weeks along. All your numbers are good, so you and,” he hesitated. “and the baby both seem to be healthy.”

 

No response. Could she even hear him? Should he shut up? What was he supposed to say?

 

More words tumbled from his lips. “The dizziness is normal, Cade says. With the weight loss, and how you tax your body anyway, Cade says that is what caused you to pass out. You’ll just need to take things a little slower and eat more.”

 

Nothing.

 

“You can stay here, you know. Cade has handled many pregnancies, you could find no better hands to be in. And, I’m here, for you and for, well, you know.”

 

Damnit, was anything getting through?

 

“Say something. Please.”

 

She laid down, her back to him. She curled in on herself, knees going up to her chest, arms wrapping around her knees. “I’m going back to sleep.”

 

Arthur sighed, but pulled the blanket over her, not sure what else to do. She was carrying his child. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. He’d wanted children all his life, or least, he’d wanted to fulfill the expectation of children. People had spoken to him of heirs, of the fact he’d need to continue his line, that as the last Maxson, it was up to him to not allow the name, the legacy, to die out.

 

He’d grown up knowing he needed to have children to carry on his family.

 

Now though? The idea of condemning another, his own child, to a life trapped in obligation, it sickened him. How could he do that?

 

#

 

Arthur’s bed smelled like him. Like whiskey and grease. He’d moved her in there when she’d tried to sleep again, and Nora hadn’t argued.

 

She couldn’t find the energy to argue. Her hands pressed against her stomach, and she couldn’t even cry.

 

How could she be pregnant? She’d had plenty of sex because she just didn’t care, and she’d never gotten pregnant since waking up. She’d assumed the cryostatis had ruined her reproductive chances, and she’d been happy as hell about that. The last thing she needed was a child, something to take care of, to be responsible for.

 

The last time she had that, well. . .

 

A hand set on her shoulder before Arthur spoke. “You need to eat. Cade says small meals will help the nausea.”

 

“Not hungry.”

 

The hand went from her shoulder to her back, rubbing in slow, gentle circles. “Talk to me, please. I want to help you, to understand you.”

 

“I can’t be pregnant, Arthur. I can’t do this again.” Her voice cracked at the truth. She’d never survive this again.

 

“I know this isn’t ideal, isn’t what you planned. Anyone who lives through a child dying will be afraid.”

 

Nora sat up and shoved Arthur’s chest. “He isn’t dead! Don’t you get that? My baby is gone, but he isn’t dead. If he had died, I could have buried him and moved on, but he didn’t.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

She dropped her head into her hands. “The Institute stole my baby sixty years ago and left me frozen. I’ve been to the Institute, Arthur. My son, Shaun, is the director. He runs the damned place.”


	24. Chapter 24

 

Arthur said nothing at first, just stared at Nora who sat on the bed, curled into a ball. Her hands had wrapped in her hair, tangled in the strands as she gripped.

 

Her son was the Director of the Institute? And she’d been there? She managed to actually go there? And she’d told him none of this.

 

“Go on,” he said, not trusting himself to say anything else.

 

“They took him, and they raised him in that clean prison, and they twisted him. He isn’t just a part of that system, he is the system. I failed him, I let them take him. Nate died trying to keep him safe, but they killed Nate and they took him anyway. And now? Now he is a man, a stranger. How can I possibly think about having another child?”

 

Well, that explained a lot, didn’t it? Losing a child was hard enough, but seeing your child taken away? Seeing the person they turned into and knowing, deep down, it was your fault. He thought back to his own mother, who had shipped him off to be raised by others.

 

He had a million questions. How did she get into the Institute. What were their weakness? Would she still try to destroy them? The part of him honed by life in the military tried to sort out the best way to use this information, the best way to add it to his own advantage.

 

None of it mattered when he saw the pain her face.

 

“I’m afraid, too,” he admitted, the words surprising even him.  

 

“Don’t patronize me. You’ve wanted kids forever, heirs for the Maxson line.”

 

He shook his head, leaning his forward, away from her, placing his forearms on his knees and letting his head hang down. He rarely spoke of his childhood, and he didn’t want to look at her while he did. It felt wrong to complain. So many were raised in the wasteland, starving, alone, hurt, but he’d been protected.

 

Still, the story spilled from him. “Do you know where I was raised? It wasn’t with my family, it was in the Citadel. When my father died, my mother shipped me off to be raised by others. She said it was because I was too timid, but I don’t know. Sometimes I think she never really wanted to be a mother, that when my father died in battle, she saw it as her chance to escape being a Maxson. They said they needed to prepare me for my future as a Maxson, for all the great and wonderful things they expected me to do. And that was my life, my whole life. It was people looking at me and telling me about how my soul was forged by eternal steel, that I would grow up and lead the Brotherhood. Men decades older than me stared at me like I was special. My childhood was nothing but preparing me, molding me into the perfect Maxson.”

 

Nora was silent before she broke into a fit of laughter that had her gasping. “Wonder what would they think if they saw you locked in a cell with a synth after getting into a bar fight, huh?”

 

He cocked up an eyebrow and gaze over his shoulder at her. “They’d think I could use a bit more molding, I suspect.”

 

They both laughed, and for a moment, Arthur thought about what life would really be like with her. No matter what happened, she’d find something good in it, a way to draw a smile from him, to remind him that things worked out, one way or another. He pretended that they’d keep going like this, easy, happy. They’d settle into a quiet routine that didn’t involve enemies and secrets and war.

 

He pretended they could work, until the fantasy broke.

 

“You know this doesn’t change anything, right?”

 

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

 

“You still lead the Brotherhood who are set on destroying synths and the railroad. I’m still with the Railroad, who won’t allow the Brotherhood to do that. Neither of us can back down, and getting knocked up doesn’t change that. My being pregnant doesn’t solve any of those problems, doesn’t make them suddenly surmountable. It doesn’t change anything about where we are or where we’re headed. Also, I still think you’re an arrogant asshole.”

 

“And I still think you have the impulse control of a twelve-year-old boy.”

 

“You should know, since you aren’t much older than a twelve-year-old boy.”

 

Arthur turned and pulled her into a kiss, rewarding her for the playful banter, for the fact she seemed to have a spark of life in her again.

 

She broke the kiss and turned her head away. “I can’t stay. I know that’s what you want, that you want me to give everything up and stay here, but I can’t. I have to go.”

 

“I know. Stay for the night, please.”

 

“Why? So we can go through his all again in the morning? Because things will suddenly look better in the morning? Because something will fucking change by morning?”

 

He brushed his lips against hers. “Because I need you here tonight.”

 

“You’re not going to try and trap me here as the incubator to the future Maxson?”

 

He rested a hand on her stomach, even when she flinched, like the touch hurt. “No. I’m not going to tell anyone I’m the father. Once that’s done, there are choices that go out of our hands. Another Maxson becomes the property of the Brotherhood, a legend to themselves, and there is no coming back from that. Even if I died tomorrow, you’d still be hunted for that child. I can’t do that to you, not right now. I have to think, plan, figure out what to do.” He rested his head against hers. “So, will you stay? For tonight?”

 

She released a sigh, and he prepared himself for her no. He steeled himself against the rejection he knew was coming, where she'd push him away again. He waited for her to lash out, to tell him she’d never stay.

 

“Yeah, I’ll stay, for tonight”


	25. Chapter 25

Nora watched Arthur as he slept. He’d stayed up with her, ate dinner, tried to push her to eat far more than she could. There was something about the way he acted that was strange, sweet. His gaze would drift down to her stomach, like he could see something there, like it mattered.

 

It reminded her of how Nate would do it, when he found out about Shaun. He would lay there and rub his hand over her stomach, then lean in and speak to the baby in whispers, like a private conversation between just them.

 

And then Nate died and left her alone.

 

How could she be at the start of this all, again? She hadn’t even fixed the mess she’d made of it last time. Life had shown her that she didn’t get the man, and the baby, and the perfect life. That wasn’t for her.

 

Eventually, it had been time to sleep. They’d crawled into bed, but sleep had evaded Nora. She hadn’t been able to sleep when pregnant with Shaun either, and even with Arthur beside her, she couldn’t settle. So, she’d slipped from the bed and sat in a chair, content to watch the man she loved.

 

And, yeah, she loved him. It didn’t change anything, couldn’t change anything, and she wouldn’t admit it, but it was true.

 

He looked. . . different asleep. Calmer, like the stresses he carried slid away. She found she liked it.

 

Arthur rolled over, onto his back, one bare leg sticking out from beneath the blanket.

 

Arthur wasn’t Nate, though, was he? Nate had been a good man, a good father, but Arthur was born of this world, bred in it. When Arthur told her he’d find a way to make it work, she almost believed him.

 

Almost.

 

In the morning, she’d have to leave. What future there was, what happened with this baby, she had no idea. How could she walk away? How would she raise a child on her own?

 

She’d figure it out, like she always did.

 

But, for tonight. . .

 

#

 

Arthur jerked awake when someone slid on top of him. He reached up, grasping the person’s throat in a tight grip.

 

His eyes cleared as he woke. Nora.

 

He yanked his arm away. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

 

She smiled, and he realized, she was naked. “I’m fine. Takes more than that to frighten me off.”

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“What does it look like?” She slid her hips forward, rubbing herself against him. He wore only his underwear, the thin cloth not enough to dull the sensation. Her lips slid up in a grin full of mischief.

 

He set his hands on her hips, holding her still. “Are you sure? Is that safe? It’s not going to hurt. . .” He nodded toward her stomach, still hesitant to say much about the baby specifically. She’d just passed out, was she healthy enough for sex? He had this fear they’d have sex and she’d double over in pain, that he’d find out she’d lost the baby all because of him.

 

Nora laughed and leaned down and kissed him like he’d charmed her. “You men. Look, I get that you all are really proud of your dicks, but I promise you, it isn’t long enough to harm the baby.”

 

“I feel like I should be insulted.”

 

“You could be insulted, or you could be in me.”

 

He reached up to roll her over, but Nora pushed his shoulders back. “Like this. I want you like this. Just lay back and relax. You work too much, you know that?”

 

He leaned back as she moved enough to pull off his underwear, leaving him naked. When she pulled them down his legs, she slid his cock into her mouth. Arthur arched up, off the bed, at the sudden warmth.

 

As soon as she did it, though, she pulled off and moved back up his body. She leaned up on her knees, grasping his length and angling it toward her, before sliding down. She took him in one slow, torturous motion, her hands moving to his stomach, flat against his skin for balance.

 

“Fuck, do you know how good you feel?” Her voice was rough, her head dropped back as she moved up again until only the head remained in her, then slid down faster.

 

Arthur kept his hands on her hips, but allowed her to set the pace. He tried to reach between them, but she moved his hand away.

 

“You never let me touch you.”

 

She came down harder, twisting her hips as she did so, drawing a moan from him. “This feels like touching to me.”

 

He tried not let her distract him, but damnit, she felt so tight wrapped around him. “Why won’t you let me make you come?”

 

Nora grasped his chin in her hand and forced him to look at her. “You really want to have this discussion now? Because I feel like we could be doing things more interesting.”

 

“I don’t want this one-sided.”

 

She released his face and continued to ride him. “It doesn’t feel one-sided to me.”

 

Arthur groaned, watching as she moved over him, strong and defiant and powerful. Not his, he didn’t think anyone could ever own her, but at least with him. He didn’t deserve anything more than that. It wasn’t fair to ask for more. “You don’t trust me yet, is that it? Don’t want to come for me because you don’t really trust me.”

 

“I don’t trust anyone.”

 

He tightened his grip on her hips as he grew closer. “You will trust me, Nora. It might take fifty years, but you’ll trust me, and you’ll come apart beneath my touch.”

 

“I don’t trust anyone. Now come on, stop holding out. You needed me to stay tonight, and I need this.”

 

He reached up and cupped her neck, pulling her down to his lips. She responded like a dream, slipping her tongue past his lips.

 

And Arthur realized, for a moment, that she was his. Maybe it was stupid, and primitive, and foolish, but she was here, wasn’t she? She carried his child. Even if she couldn’t say it, wouldn’t admit it, she loved him. He could tell in the way she raged at him, the way she clung to him even when she hissed.

 

He shuddered as he came, taking over for her as he pulled her hips down, pressing in as deep as he could.

 

Her body collapsed down on him, her breath hard, sweat on her forehead.

 

He wrapped his arms around her and held her, even if it was just for tonight.

 


	26. Chapter 26

“Slow down there, Fixer.” Deacon wrapped his hand around Nora’s arm, pulling her to a stop. “You’ve been walking damn near all night. I don’t claim to know much about babies, but I know the bastards like to sleep.”

 

Nora spun, pulling her arm away. “How did you know?”

 

“Really? Give me some credit, here. You’ve been throwing up every morning for the last two weeks. You cried when you killed that mother mole rat. This is sort of crazy pregnant chick 101. I wouldn’t be great at intel if I couldn’t even tell, and you haven’t even chunked up much.”

 

“You know I could shoot you, right? And being pregnant, no one would even blame me.”

 

Deacon wrapped an arm over her shoulder and pulled her against his side. “Hell, Fixer, it’s me. No one would blame you even if you weren’t pregnant. A few might even buy you presents. Now, come on. Sit down and tell Uncle Deacon all about what’s wrong while you eat.”

 

Nora glared, but did as he said. Cade had been right, small meals helped, and her feet hurt after the walk. She’d tried to escape the Prydwen undetected, but leave it to the doctor to wait by the vertibirds until she showed. He had a pack of vitamins and bland crackers for her, and while it annoyed her, she was thanking him now.

 

And, he’d made sure she knew that her clearance to return was set. If she felt sick at any point, she could come straight to him for treatment. He didn’t say Maxson had ensured it, but she knew it was true.

 

Even as she ran away, Maxson tried to take care of her, tried to care for their child.

 

"You're not an Uncle." 

 

"You just love to hurt my feelings. I will be an excellent uncle. I will teach the little tyke to fight, to lie, and I'll dress it up in costumes so you can't tell it apart from other babies. I'll babysit, too." 

 

"I would never trust you with a child, Deacon. I gave you a bobblehead and it came back without a head." 

 

"Well, do you plan on your baby having a spring for a neck? If not, then I don't suspect running into a similar problem." He took a deep breath, face going serious. “So, I’m going to guess it’s Maxson’s?” Deacon took a bite of dried squirrel, trying to act as if they discussed the weather, not the father of her baby.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Does he know?”

 

Nora nodded, nibbling on the corner of a cracker.

 

“Does this change anything? Is it going to affect out plans? I wouldn’t blame you if the answer was yes, Nora, but I need to know. We're partners, and if we need to take you out of this for a while, or keep your jobs Brotherhood free, we can do that.”

 

“No, D. It won’t change anything. The plan is the same. I’ll work with Shaun until we are able to infiltrate the Institute, and then we’ll take them down. We have to.”

 

“And if that means we have to take on the Brotherhood? Can you fire on Maxson and his men?”

 

Nora sighed. That was the question, wasn’t it? How could she attack Arthur’s forces? How could she fight against them like that? But even as it hurt, she knew the only option. 

 

“Then I’ll take them apart, because I have to. This,” she pressed her hand against her stomach, “doesn’t change a damned thing. If anything, it makes me more determined. This baby is going to be born into a better world, into one where I don’t have to worry about the Institute. If anything gets in the way of that, I’ll destroy it.”

 

Deacon nodded, like it was the answer he’d hoped for. “Good to know, because we have a mission.”

 

“Oh yeah?”

 

“You up for saving some synths from the Institute at Bunker Hill tomorrow?”

 

#

 

Arthur leaned over the railing of the Prydwen, the wind catching his jacket. He tried to breathe in the Commonwealth, to pull it into his lungs and hold it there. He hadn’t been able to leave the Prydwen again. No one could stop him outright, but the questions and concerns raised after Diamond City had been impossible to ignore or set aside. Two weeks without Nora had left him anxious and uneasy.

 

He snapped at people, drank more than he should, and couldn’t sleep.

 

Was she okay? Was the baby okay? He imagined her somewhere, bleeding out, dying somewhere alone. Was this part of the hell she dealt with with her son? The not knowing? The worry?

 

He wanted to take her and keep her on the Prydwen, with Cade down the hall, and a hundred men with guns between her and any danger. He wanted to pull her into his bed and never let her leave.But, that wasn’t possible. So, instead, he’d let her go. He’d known when she’d gotten up that morning, listened as she’d pulled on her clothing and took her gear, silent like she didn’t want to risk waking him. He’d pretended to sleep while she slipped from the room, and he’d let her go.

 

Laying there, awake but still, had been the hardest thing he’d done in a long time. He did it because it would hurt her less. She didn’t like goodbyes, if the way she’d snuck away so many times said anything. So he’d let her run away while he pretended to sleep.

 

But, damnit, he missed her.

 

Arthur rubbed his eyes, trying to focus on the tasks ahead, on the things that needed to be done. At least that distracted him, kept him from thinking as much about her.

 

“Elder?” Captain Kells walked up beside Arthur, his hands behind his back in a position so similar to how Arthur often stood. Why did they do it? Who started it, and why did they all think it made them look in charge?

 

“Yes, Captain?”

 

“We’ve gotten word of Institute movement. They’re attempting to recapture escaped synths in hiding. If we move quickly, we can take them by surprise and not only eliminate the synths, but deliver a blow to Institute forces.”

 

Arthur nodded. “Is the information reliable? I don’t want to commit our forces to a battle where they’ll be out numbered.”

 

“It's good. They have no reason to send more than a few. They think they have the element of surprise, and they want to do this quietly. The Institute isn’t known for fair, open battles. The settlement has already agreed to make their people scares to reduce any civilian casualties.”

 

Good. Civilian casualties were a problem to Arthur that previous Elders had ignored. He knew, however, you could not hold a force with fear and hatred. His men trained, they expected fighting, they knew death was a risk at every mission. Civilians didn’t sign up for that, though.

 

The idea of a fight made him drag his hand down his beard. He was so tired of fighting, of planning for others to fight and die for him, for a cause he wasn’t sure about anymore.

 

But, he was Elder, and he couldn’t stop doing his duty just because he’d grown tired, because he couldn't find the passion he'd once held. 

 

“Alright. Send two squads in power armor and four field scribes to treat them and any injures civilians. I want it stressed that they are to only fire upon Institute targets, and then on any who are clearly hostile. I don't want any mess ups. Where and when with this happen?”

 

“Tomorrow, at Bunker Hill.”


	27. Chapter 27

 

Nora pressed her back against the wall in the hallways beneath Bunker Hill. Talk about a shit show. They showed up before the Institute, and it looked like it would go off without a hitch. She’d actually though, for a moment, that one plan of the Railroad might actually work out.

 

Until the fucking Brotherhood showed up.

 

Power armor clad assholes leapt from their ships and Nora knew it was all fucked. Fighting the Institute was one thing, but the Brotherhood was another. Her people were brave, but they were no match for both at the same time. The Railroad lived by wits and subterfuge. A head on conflict was a sure losing battle, but there was no turning back from it now.

 

Her and Deacon had held off the Institute and the Brotherhood in the tunnels, keeping the synths hidden in the back room, but their odds of a win were gone. Retreat was the only option for survival, and the Brotherhood stood between them and the exit.

 

“You know, you never take me anywhere nice,” Deacon said from beside her.

 

“I took you to the top of Trinity Tower once. That seems pretty nice.”

 

“We fought super mutants. If I have to pull my gun, it is no longer a nice place.”

 

“You and I have very different ideas of nice, then. Any evening I don’t pull out my gun is a wasted night.”

 

Deacon laughed, then hissed in a breath. He’d taken a hit to the side, and he wasn’t breathing right. He needed to get out, and so did the four synths.

 

“Alright, D, you ready?”

 

“Don’t like that tone, Fixer. Last time you used that tone you shoved my power armor off a building.”

 

“You lived, so don’t complain. You’ve gotta get the synths out.”

 

“I’m not about to leave your ass here.”

 

Nora turned a grin on him, trying to stay jovial. He didn’t need to see the stress in her face. “You broke your ribs, D. You can’t use your sniper rifle and you’re shit with hand to hand or pistol. I’m not taking on a suicide mission here, I’ll be right behind you. I just need to give you cover fire while you guys get out. You all use stealthboys, sneak past them, and I’ll throw a grenade for my own cover and do the same.”

 

“I’m not leaving you.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. “We’re in this together.”

 

“We lose those four synths and this all was for nothing. You see how many we’ve lost? Don’t let them die for nothing, D. You take your crazy ass and get those four synths out. I’ll make a path for you and keep it clear, and I’ll be right on your ass.”

 

Deacon might be stubborn, but he was smart. It was their own play. “Alright. If you don’t follow me out, I’ll burn every comic you collected.”

 

Nora laughed and shoved at his arm.

 

Once he’d moved down the hallway, Nora took a deep breath. No, it wasn’t planned to be a suicide mission, but she knew the odds. Pretending things were different never helped anything. If she created a big enough distraction, there was no chance she’d sneak past in the chaos. She checked her rifle. Plenty of ammunition, as ready as she’d ever be.

 

Nora turned, ducking behind the bottom half of the window, using the ledge to steady her gun, taking stock of the Brotherhood in the space below. They always looked untouchable in their power armor, like gods moving through a battlefield.

 

Deacon set a hand on her shoulder as he passed her, the synths behind him. “You ready?”

 

“Yep. You guys stay low and fast. Pop the stealthboys as soon as you clear the hallway and then don’t look back, and don’t worry. I’ll make sure they’re looking at me.”

 

“Good luck, Fixer.”

 

“Good luck, D.”

 

Nora took the first shot, aiming for limbs, for wounding shots. Don’t kill ‘em.

 

And that had nothing to do with Arthur, she told herself.

 

“Come on, assholes. Eyes up here.” Nora needed them looking at her, allowing Deacon to sneak past the soldiers undetected. The stealthboys would keep them mostly hidden, but without training, they couldn’t be silent. That’s what her job was, though, to be annoying enough everyone focused on her.

 

Good thing that was her specialty.

 

The slight distortion of the stealthboys caught her attention, but only because she knew to look for it. A shitty end to this would be for one of the synths to catch a stray bullet of hers. She could only imagine trying to explain that one to Dez.

 

Nora loosed another bullet, striking the leg of a soldier, sending him to the dirt. Another hit a fusion core, forcing that soldier out his power armor. She excelled at causing chaos.

 

Then one of the synths, the one at the back, flickered into sight.

 

Fuck. The stealthboy struggled, trying to hide them but malfunctioning. No way they wouldn’t notice them.

 

Nora did the only thing she could think of and stood from her cover, because no trained soldier would ignore so clear a shot. Sure enough, pain seared through her shoulder, sending her stumbling backward. But, it gave Deacon time to swap stealthboys out and get them out of the room.

 

The bullets stopped, and Nora drug herself back into the corner of the room. She pulled off the armor on that shoulder, groaning at the blood pouring from the wound. No stimpacks, of course. She’d  handed hers off to the synths, figuring they’d take more damage than she would.

 

She pressed her hand to her stomach, like maybe she could still shield the baby, maybe she could still make this right.

 

Nora tried to hold the gun, but it slid from her grasp. Bullet must have hit something important, because blood slid down that arm and pooled beneath her. Not that it mattered. Her head had started to spin, and like she told Arthur once, blood loss was a bitch.

 

She leaned her head back against the wall and smiled.

 

So, maybe smiling wasn’t the right response, the normal one, but fuck normal. She smiled because she thought about how things could have gone. As she lost more blood, and the heavy steps of power armor echoed up the stairs as the soldiers approached, Nora let herself dream.

 

They could have been happy. If he wasn’t a Maxson, and she wasn’t who she was, they could have had a little house, grown a garden. Their child would run around, the perfect mixture of the two of them, hard headed and tenacious. They’d have Nora’s temper and Arthur’s practicality. She’d curl up in his arms at night and fall asleep. No Institute, no brotherhood, no railroad. Nothing but them, but the little family they’d carve out of the filth.

 

If only things were different.

 

The large boots of a set of power armor appeared in front of her before she lost consciousness.


	28. Chapter 28

Arthur stared down at Nora’s unmoving body. “How did this happen?”

 

Danse rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, the man so much smaller when he stepped out of his power armor. “The intel about the Institute was good, but it didn’t include that the Railroad had the synths they were trying to recapture. It was chaos out there, Arthur. Even I didn’t realize this was Nora until I saw her in the backroom.”

 

“And who shot her? I want to know the fucker who shot her.” The curse word slipped from his lips, uncommon for him but still so much less than what he wanted to say.

 

“I don’t think there is any reason to tell you that. You know as well as I do that they did the right thing. She was a hostile and they had no idea who she was.”

 

Even though Danse was right, it didn’t soothe the fury inside of Arthur, the bottomless rage that wanted to take apart the man who had shot her.

 

Nora moaned and fidgeted, like she couldn’t get comfortable, even in a med-x induced sleep.

 

It had been close. Too close. She’d lost blood, and if the wound had been a few inches to the left, they could have killed her. She’d have died in the tunnels beneath some damned settlement, and he wouldn’t have even known what happened to her. The Brotherhood didn’t collect bodies for identification. She’d have been just another casualty of war left to rot.

 

Her and his child.

 

“Why did you save her? I know you think this needs to end.”

 

“Because you are my friend. I want you two to stop this, but not like this. And, look, I understand why you didn’t tell anyone, why you didn’t tell me, but the way she used her arm to cover her stomach.” Danse sighed. “Children are a rare gift. I wouldn’t let you lose this if I could stop it.”

 

“I owe you.”

 

“You never owe me anything. I just want you to start thinking things through. Her living is a delay of the inevitable, not a solution. You need to sit down and figure this out.”

 

Arthur nodded. “I’m going to go.”

 

“You won’t be here when she wakes?”

 

“I think maybe it’s best if I stay away. You’re right, there’s no way to fix this, is there? Will you stay with her? When she’s up, send her on her way. Don’t tell her I’m here.”

 

Danse eyed Arthur, like he was trying to figure him out. “Of course.”

 

Arthur fled from the make-shift infirmary they’d set up in Bunker Hill to treat wounded. She was too injured to take the time to travel to the Prydwen, so Danse had sent word to Arthur instead. He didn’t think he’d ever forced a vertibird so fast, terror beating at him that he’d just miss her. That he’d get there and she’d have slipped away, died during the time it took him to get there.

 

And seeing her? That had almost been worse. They’d dosed her with med-x to keep her under. It had taken more than a few stimpacks and stiches to seal her up. The bullet had torn through her shoulder, near her collarbone. She’d been spread out on the top of the bar in the marketplace, blood soaked into her clothing, skin pale.

 

Arthur tried to pay for a room, but they offered him one for free. He stumbled into it, closing the door behind him, trying to lock the image out there, to keep it out of this room, away from him.

 

Inside his coat pocket, he pulled out the only thing that would help, the only thing that would make it hurt less.

 

How many years had it been? He’d stopped counting a while ago, once he’d felt like it was behind him at last. Years no longer mattered.

 

His fingers shook as he lifted the jet to his lips, and inhaled it.

 

Guess an addict never forgets how to do it.

 

#

 

Nora woke up swinging. Maybe it was the sight of orange jumpsuits or the pain in her arm, but she woke like a lion, lashing out, unwilling to be taken down.

 

Someone grabbed her wrist, setting their other hand on her hip to hold her down. His voice came to her, but she couldn’t place it right away. “Settle down, Nora, you’re safe.”

 

“Danse?” She stilled. “What are you doing here?”

 

He waited until she relaxed before pulling his hands back. “A thank you is more traditional. I saved you after your little stunt.”

 

“And the synths?”

 

He frowned. “The synths escaped. I suppose they have you to thank for that?”

 

She released a breath, able to relax for a moment. If they got away, so did Deacon. “What can I say? I’m pretty distracting.”

 

She winced as she sat up, her hand resting on her lower stomach. Was the baby alright? She couldn’t bring herself to ask Danse the question.

 

As if he knew what she worried about, he answered anyway, voice low. “The field scribe says she doesn’t believe the baby was harmed. An ultrasound would better show, but I doubt you want to go to the Prydwen for that.”

 

“How does everyone know? Am I getting fat and I just didn’t realize it?”

 

Danse nodded at her hand. “I found you in that room just like that, your arm gripping, like you were shielding something. Didn’t take much to guess the reason.”

 

“Is Arthur here?”

 

Danse’s eyes darted over, toward the inn, then jerked back. “No. He wasn’t able to come.”

 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

 

“Yes, I am. But, he’s trying to do the right thing and stay away from you.”

 

“Why are you so convinced we couldn’t figure this out? He doesn’t even seem happy with the Brotherhood. What if, somehow, he and I both ran. We went west, away from all of this.”

 

A chair creaked as Danse sat down beside Nora. “You don’t understand. Arthur is the last Maxson.” His gaze found Nora’s stomach. “Or, he was. He is an idea, a legend, a belief in the greatness of the Brotherhood and our mission. Even if he wanted to leave, they’d never let him. They’d never allow the Maxson like to die out, to lose that symbol. That’s how I knew this thing between you would never work. He is Brotherhood until he dies.”

 

Danse was right, and she knew it. As much as she hated his honesty, she knew it to be true. There was no way to argue with it. They’d never let Maxson go, and she could never join them.

 

“I told you this would hurt, and it has.” Danse’s finger touched about her wound. “This is the result, and it’s what is going to keep happening. One of you will destroy the other, and it will end up killing you both.”

 

Nora got off the bed, thankful when Danse stood and offered an arm.

 

“You’re going to leave now?” The hope in his voice was charming.

 

“Nope.”

 

He groaned. “You’re going to go see Arthur.”

 

“There ya go. You want to walk me up there or should I try to make it myself?”

 

After a bit more arguing, Danse escorted her to the room, probably only because more bruises on Nora would be his fault, and he didn’t want to be responsible for explaining that.

 

Nora pressed a kiss to his cheek before shooing him off and sliding into the room Arthur had taken.

 

Arthur sat in the chair, eyes vacant, jet canister in his hand. Nora had spent enough time in Goodneighbor to know what a man strung out on chems looked like, and it looked exactly like Arthur.

 

After years of being clean, Arthur had used again.

 


	29. Chapter 29

 

Nora shut the door behind her and locked it. Arthur had pride, and he’d never want anyone to see him like that. The man who was steel itself would loathe to be seen as a junkie, lounging in a chair in a filthy in, chems hanging loosely in his hand.

 

“Nora?” He squinted like he couldn’t quite see her, like she was too far away to recognize. “You can’t be here. You’re not supposed to be here.”

 

“Well, I do a lot of things I’m not supposed to. Feel free to throw me in your jail later, okay?”

 

He nodded, like they’d come to an agreement. “Okay.”

 

Nora pulled a chair up beside him, then reached for the jet. His hands shook as she peeled off each finger. He didn’t fight her, but then again, maybe he knew he couldn’t in that state. “Thought you were done with this?”

 

He shrugged. “Vices. They get us all eventually. Doesn’t matter how long you run, they find you again.” His now empty hand reached for her shoulder. “Do you hurt?”

 

“No. It’s fine. Talk to me, Arthur. What’s this about.” She lifted the jet.

 

“I’m tired of losing games I don’t even want to play. You know I didn’t send troops after you, right? Not that it matters, but I didn’t. I wouldn’t have done that. I thought it was the Institute, but it doesn’t matter what I thought, we are still exactly where we knew we’d be. Exactly where Danse said we’d be, just tearing each other apart.” He released a hard laugh, one that sent shudders up her spine. It was the sort that lacked any humor, the one that said the person had broken.

 

“I’m fine. A little bullet wound would never end me.” Except it almost had. She knew it, he knew it. That bullet wound was almost the end for her.

 

“Because you were lucky enough that Danse walked through that door. It was anyone else, they’d have probably finished you off, or at least left you there to bleed out. You almost died, and it was my fault. Even if it was an accident, it was my order that sent them there, my men. I don’t want to ride this anymore but I don’t know how to get off. I don’t see an exit strategy here.”

 

Nora nodded. She understood exactly what he meant. She was tired of this, but she had no fucking idea how to stop it. Even when she should have run, she’d ended up right back here. “I didn’t shoot to kill.”

 

“What?”

 

“When I fought your men, I couldn’t kill them. I know people died, on both sides, but I couldn’t do it. I handed out a few wounds, but I couldn’t kill them. I couldn’t do that to you. I don’t know how to do this, Arthur, how to make this better.” She slid out of her chair and into his lap. Her forehead pressed against his, seeking warmth from him, some feeling that there was an end in sight.

 

His arms slid around her, uncoordinated and heavy. “What do you want?”

 

She tried to decide her answer. What did she want? Had she really thought about that? She wanted a lot of things. She wanted her old life back, she wanted her son back, she wanted Arthur, she wanted the Institute to burn, she wanted better hair and a house that didn’t smell like moldy radiation. “I don’t want to have to fight anymore. I’m so tired of fighting. And what about you? What does the great Elder Arthur Maxson want?”

 

“You.” The word came out instantly, but then he froze. He shook his head. “No. I mean, yes, I do, but what I want more than you? I want both of you-“ He pressed a hand to her stomach, “-safe. I’d give you both up if it meant you were safe, if it meant I didn’t have to spend my days terrified my men would kill you. You could move on, and I’d be able to live knowing you were safe, that you could have a good life.”

 

Funny, in the end, neither of their answers included them together. They wanted that, sure, but it wasn’t at the top of their lists.

 

They both wanted. . . peace. They needed it, craved it. After so long fighting, they needed quiet.

 

And that was something she could work toward. Finally, a goal, something achievable. Staying together, that felt like a mountain too far, something out of reach, and it was driving them both insane. But peace?

 

Maybe.

 

Purpose energized her. For the first time since she’d become entangled with Arthur, she felt her feet beneath her. She wasn’t running away from something, she was running toward something.

 

Nora offered him a kiss before standing up. He didn’t try to recapture her, probably only due to the chems.

 

She rushed from the room and waved Danse over. She shoved a handful of caps to him. “Buy some addictol and sober him up.”

 

Danse’s eyes darted to the closed door, face tight. “He’s using again?”

 

“Just once. Please, be nice, he doesn’t need a lecture. He’s hurting, but I’m going to fix this.”

 

“How? We’ve been over this, Nora. You can’t fix this. You and he will never work.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I’m not going to fix us, Danse. That’s the problem, he and I have been trying to solve the issue of us. We’ve been trying to fix the wrong problem. There is no solving that, no fixing that. Instead, I’m going to broker a peace between the Brotherhood and the Railroad. Bring Arthur here.” She held up her pipboy and showed him an abandoned settlement named Covenant. “It’s empty and safe. I’ll come with someone to represent the Railroad, and we’re going to come up with a plan.”

 

“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

 

“Because if I wanted to kill either of you, I’d just do it.”

 

He didn’t look convinced.

 

“Come on, Danse. There is still a way to work this out so we all live through the week. Just get him ready and meet me there tomorrow at nightfall.”


	30. Chapter 30

 

Arthur took a deep breath as he eyed the empty settlement. If anyone else had invited him, he’d have never come. It was a bad idea to show up to a meeting someone else set up with so little security.

 

Beside him, Danse stood, in his power armor, so that was something.

 

But Nora wouldn’t betray him. He knew it.

 

He also dreaded seeing her. Having Danse shoved addictol past his lips had been bad enough. The Paladin hadn’t had to clean him up in years, and he couldn’t shake the shame from it happening again. But Nora had seen him, too. Seen him at his worst, as the junkie he became because it was easier than bearing the responsibilities placed on him.

 

She’d seen him as the coward he was.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Danse had asked the same question at least four times previously.

 

“Yes. Nora wouldn’t betray us. I’m tired of losing people, Danse. If we can broker some sort of arrangement, then what is the harm in trying?”

 

“You can’t believe anything can be done with the Railroad.”

 

“I thought the same thing about the Minutemen, but it happened.”

 

Danse took Arthur’s arm and pulled him to a stop before they entered the only building with the lights on. “Okay. But, don’t let her cloud your head.”

 

Arthur nodded, knowing Danse was right. “Alright. Come on.”

 

#

 

Nora stood when Arthur walked in. She wanted to cross the room and throw her arms around him, but she knew it wasn’t the time for that. This meeting mattered a hell of lot more than her hormones. Instead, she gave him a smile, one he returned.

 

“Thanks for coming,” she said, tossing in a wink just to be difficult.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes but walked the rest of the way in. “Introductions?”

 

“Right. You haven’t seen anyone.”

 

Deacon pipped up. “To be fair, I’ve seen him through the crosshairs of my rifle.”

 

“And you didn’t take the shot? That’s disappointing.”

 

Deacon frowned for a moment, then laughed. “Don’t be amusing. I’m not interested in being amused.”

 

“How about I give introductions so no one feels the need to help. You all know me, Nora, General of the Minutemen, Railroad agent, all around charming person. This is Deacon, who will be here to negotiate on the behalf of the Railroad. Elder Arthur Maxson will be negotiating on behalf of the Brotherhood. Paladin Danse is mostly here to make sure no one has any fun.”

 

“And him?” Arthur nodded at the man in the back of the room.

 

“Ah, him. Well, I figured no one trusts anyone else. We’re all afraid we’re going to screw each other over.”

 

Deacon raised his hand like a kid in class. “Actually, I think only two of you have screwed. Although, Paladin, if you’re interested? No? Okay then, no sale there.”

 

Nora yanked her elbow back into Deacon’s ribs then kept talking like the interruption hadn’t happened. “This is RJ MacCready, a mercenary from Goodneighbor. MacCready has been hired to keep the peace. Anyone gets out of line, he’s being paid to shoot them no matter what side they’re one. Sound fair? Good, everyone, let’s sit.”

 

#

 

Arthur shook his head as he watched Nora. As well as she fought, she was a born leader and negotiator. She seemed to know what each side wanted.

 

But, they weren’t agreeing to anything as quickly as she’d like, if the way she slammed her fist down on the table said anything.

 

“That’s it. I’m tired of the petty fighting. You don’t have to like each other to know that what’s happening isn’t working. Arthur, how many men did you lose in Bunker Hill?”

 

“Eight.”

 

“Deacon?”

 

“Nine.”

 

“You lost seventeen people in total over a battle that didn’t need to happen. We have a common enemy. We both want the Institute to be dealt with, and neither of us are in a position to do it right now. The Brotherhood lacks intel and the Railroad lacks manpower. Dividing our attention so we can fight amongst ourselves is foolish.”

 

“The Railroad is not a threat to the Brotherhood.” Danse offered this piece of advice, standing to Arthur’s left.

 

“You think? Deacon, exactly how many charges would it take to ignite the gas that keeps that floating fortress airborne?”

 

“Three.”

 

Nora set her hands out. “Three. You really think you could stop someone from setting three charges? You lose the Prydwen, you lose your advantage.”

 

Arthur sighed. “What are you proposing? You’ve offered lots of reasons we shouldn’t fight but have yet to give me a reason for us to team up.”

 

Nora leaned forward, arms on the table. “We could take the down Institute tomorrow if we worked together. You supply forces, we have a way in. I get us all inside, we sabotage their reactor, and we're out in less than two hours. We blow them to hell, and then you leave.”

 

“What about the synths?”

 

“What about them? If there is a factory creating fatmen, you don’t worry about a few pieces of ammunition, you shut down the factory. Some synths aren’t going to be a problem if you remove all of their resources. Without the Institute, you can’t make anymore synths, can’t even repair the ones out there. In another twenty years more of them will be dead.”

 

It made sense. If the head of the snake was gone, who cared about a few left over fangs? If the Railroad wanted to try and help the synths left, it didn’t change anything for the Brotherhood.

 

Then, the last part of the deal sunk in, the part he was trying to ignore. “And then you expect us to just leave? You expect me to just leave?”

 

“The leader of the Railroad was very clear about this point. There can be no deal without it. You are a disturbance here. Can you truly tell me that if you stayed, you wouldn’t continue to expand? You wouldn’t eventually end up head to head with the Minutemen? We have one military force here, we can’t have two. The deal is that as soon as the Institute is gone, you and your men leave.”

 

Arthur looked down at his hands. This is what he wanted, right? He’d said, if he could have anything, it would be for Nora and his child to be safe. And that's what she wanted, to not have to fight. 

 

She was offering that to him. With the Institute gone, the Brotherhood gone, she’d be safe. Between the Minutemen and the Railroad, nothing could harm her or their child.

 

And he’d be alone.

 

But it would be worth it.

 

Arthur stuck his hand across the table. “Deal. We attack tomorrow, and I'll be gone by the next day." 


	31. Chapter 31

 

“So, this is it.” Nora leaned against the wall outside, hands stuck in her pockets. She appeared small, shoulders hunched forward. Goosebumps covered the skin of her arms.

 

“Seems like it.” Arthur slid his coat off and wrapped it around her.

 

“I’m sorry. I tried to change it, fought about it, but they wouldn’t accept any deal that included the Brotherhood staying.”

 

“It's okay. They’re right. No peace would stand long-term. We’re like Deathclaws. Eventually one of us would start snapping at the other.”

 

She slid her arms through the sleeves of the coat, dwarfed by it. Arthur grinned at the way it swallowed her. He wanted to pull her into his arms, but damn it, he had no idea where they were. If all went well, he was leaving in two days. It wasn't fair to ask for anything from her, was it?

 

“You know, I set up one of the houses, if you wanted to stay the night.”

 

“I should go back, prepare everyone.”

 

“Why? Let Danse head back and get everything started. Come on, Arthur, stay with me. You’re going to leave in two days, and I’ll probably never see you again. Don’t leave me tonight.”

 

He reached and wrapped his arms around her arms, then pulled her against his chest. He couldn’t deny her. The trip into the Institute would be planned tomorrow with the Railroad leadership. There was little he could do tonight, and nothing else that seemed more important that her. “Alright.”

 

#

 

Nora shrugged off the coat when they reached the house she’d prepared. She’d hoped Arthur would agree, had spent much of the day setting it up. A bed, some food, a fire going. It was the best she could manage in the romance department.

 

She’d never been good at romance. Nate used to laugh at her, saying her best bet at romance was a burned steak. “Do you like it?”

 

Arthur took in the room, saying nothing for a moment.

 

What a stupid idea. She and Arthur were a lot of things, but romantic wasn’t one of them. Too much pain between them, too practical. She'd probably ruined the whole night with this sappy display, showed her hand, showed him she cared too much. He'd walk out the door because she'd fucked it up. “Sorry. It was stupid, I just thought, with you leaving-“

 

He silenced her with a kiss, pulling her body against him. “I love it, Nora. It’s perfect. I just have one rule for tonight.”

 

“Rules? Do we need safe words, too?”

 

“I think we can manage without that. I just, I don’t want to talk about tomorrow. I don’t want to talk about the Institute, or about leaving, or about anything but tonight. That will all happen no matter what, so I want to focus on tonight. I don’t want to ruin tonight because of what might happen tomorrow.”

 

She smiled and wrapped her arms behind his neck, going up on her toes to return the kiss.

 

Arthur grabbed her thighs and pulled her legs up and around his waist.

 

“You sure your leg can handle this?” She offered him a grin.

 

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s fine.” He nipped her bottom lip then dropped her back on the bed.

 

“Didn’t think you were into the rough stuff.”

 

Arthur pulled his shirt off, then crawled onto the bed, above her. “You talk when you’re nervous, did you know that? You start to ramble. Do I make you nervous?”

 

Yes, he did. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him, but she was fucking terrified of two days from then, of seeing the sky clear and knowing he’d left. “No.”

 

“Liar.” He helped pull her shirt off, careful to avoid her shoulder. “But that’s okay. I’m used to the things that come out of your mouth. I'd deny it, but I love the things that come out of your mouth.”

 

His fingers danced along her skin until they touched the button on her pants. He paused until she nodded, then undid them and slid her pants and underwear off, leaving her naked beneath him.

 

Arthur pressed his lips to her throat, scraping his teeth against her pulse. He kissed down her neck and over his collarbone, then captured a nipple between his lips.

 

Nora moaned at the touch, her own hands clutching his shoulders. He was going too slow. They only had this time, she didn’t want to waste a single second of it. Her yanking at his shoulders had no effect, however. He would not be moved. He was going to do this as he damn well pleased, and didn't that excite her?

 

He repeated the attention on her other breast before kissing a line down her stomach as he scooting down the bed. His hands closed around her knees and he spread her legs apart.

 

Cold air blew over her wet slit, and she shivered from it.

 

“Are you going to let me taste you? Last time I had to hold you down.”

 

“I’d rather you just fuck me.”

 

He smiled, one corner of his lip tilting up. “Come on, Nora. Don’t make me beg.”

 

“That might be fun. Elder Arthur Maxson, begging? Can’t think too many people have ever seen then.”

 

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her hip. “No one has ever seen that. But, I’d beg for you. I’d get down on my knees for you, Nora. Just tell me yes, please.”

 

“Yes.”

 

He didn’t ease into it, didn’t go gentle. Shock crossed his face, like he still thought she’d deny him, before he drug his tongue up her core. He latched one hand on her thigh as he devoured her.

 

He pulled away far enough to speak, his breath spilling over her. “You taste amazing, you know that? I don’t think I’d ever get tired of you.” When the words left his mouth, he stilled, like he realized what he’d said.

 

Nora dug her heel into his shoulder to urge him on. Neither of them needed to think any further ahead.

 

He got back to work, pressed a finger into her.

 

Nora’s back arched, her hips thrusting forward, already imagining when he’d slip inside her. His finger was a poor substitute, but his tongue helped ease that. He slid his tongue around her clit, then used the hand on her thigh to pull the hood of her clit back and give him direct access.

 

The touch was almost painful, so strong she gasped, but he didn’t stop. He added a second finger into her and rubbed his tongue against her clit.

 

“Stop,” she whispered as she got close, her chest pounding, her hand setting on top of his hand.

 

He pulled off and rested his forehead against her thigh. “Don’t stop me, Nora. Trust me, please. Let me do this.”

 

Could she? Could she give in and come apart beneath his tongue? In all those times with men, she’d never let them get her off. It was too private, meant too much. It felt like giving away something private, something she'd had with Nate, something she couldn't give to random men. The only part of her that was still hers. But with Arthur? The only time she’d have him?

 

Nora took a deep breath and removed her hand. “O- okay.”

 

He kissed her thigh, then latched his lips onto her clit, sucking hard as she sped up the fingers still inside her cunt. Her breath seized in her chest as she came around his fingers, her back bowing up. He released her clit but left his fingers inside her, moving in slow, gentle strokes until she eased down.

 

#

 

Arthur pulled his fingers from inside her and crawled up her body. He pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re beautiful when you come, you know that?”

 

She leaned up and kissed him, her own wetness still on his lips, but she didn’t seem to care. Not his Nora, she wasn’t the sort to worry about that. “Are you going to fuck me already?”

 

“You never change. It’s one of the things I love about you.” He worked his pants off as she hooked a leg around his hip, lifting her pelvis, like she could force him inside of her by angle alone.

 

He grabbed her hip and slid into her. A groan escaped past his clenched teeth when her tightness wrapped around him. Was there anything better? Anywhere in the world better than this moment? He slid out then pressed forward again, trying to remember this moment, to remember every detail. It had to last him a long damned time.

 

“Remember the rules?”

 

He frowned, his brain not working at its best. “What?”

 

“Stop thinking about tomorrow. I can see it on your face. Just stay here, with me.” She lifted her hips, forcing him deeper on a thrust.

 

He slid his hand up her ribs and cupped her breast. He thumbed her nipple as he thrust deeper, never able to get deep enough. Any space was too much, it just reminded him that she’d be gone that-

 

“Fuck.” He hissed when she clamped her teeth down on his shoulder.

 

“Every time you start thinking about it, I’m going to punish you.” A speck of blood on her lip told him how hard she’d bitten him.

 

And he laughed. Wasn’t that just her? Able to turn anything into a joke, to ease any pain. He leaned in and licked the blood of her lip. “Alright, sweetheart. If you want it rough, try to hang on, yeah?”

 

She grinned and tightened the leg around his hip. “Finally.”


	32. Chapter 32

Nora took a deep breath as Dez and Arthur shook hands. When she’d met the leader of the Railroad, it had been at gun point. At least this meeting was sans minigun.

 

“We’re not friends, just so we’re clear.” Dez released Arthur’s hand and then blew out a lungful of cigarette smoke.

 

“I don’t need friends. I need allies.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment, sizing the other up, until both broke into smiles.

 

Dez nodded toward the table set up in Nora’s Sanctuary house. They could have met anywhere, but Sanctuary had the transporter and privacy they needed, and because the Minutemen were a neutral third party, they had security as well.

 

Arthur and Dez leaned forward and traded information back and forth. They’d stop every now and then and argue, or ask Nora a question.

 

Where was the SRB. How many guards patrolled this hallway. What were the response times.

 

Nora offered what she could, but much of it was a guess. She’d never seen them react to a real threat, so she had no idea their response times or protocols.

 

“Look, I know you two are plan and attack sort of people, but sometimes we just have to buckle up and hope shit works out.”

 

They both stared at her like she was insane. Not that she was unused to that, but seeing it so perfectly portrayed on the faces of enemies, well, that said something, didn’t it?

 

Arthur shook his head, trying to hide a grin. “Where’s this Tinker Tom I’ve heard about? The one who will handle the molecular relay, because nothing at all sounds unwise about that.”

 

Dez pointed over toward the transport.

 

Arthur began to walk that way, but Nora stopped him. “What do you need Tom for?”

 

“I need to talk to him.”

 

“About?”

 

Arthur stopped and turned on Nora. He leaned in and lowered his voice. “How about the fact that we’re talking about scattering the molecules of the woman who is carrying my child. Allowing you to fight in this is already not on the top of lists of things I want to happen, but I want to discuss with him the risks to you and the child before we send you through that thing.”

 

Nora took a step back from the intensity on his face. That made sense, she supposed. “Okay. Fine. Let’s go.”

 

“Not a chance in hell. You’ll intimidate him into saying whatever you want. I will speak to him.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then cupped her cheek and pulled her into a kiss. A rare show of affection in public. “Just, let me talk to him, okay? I’m afraid of what could happen to you, and I need to talk to him.”

 

She nodded and stepped away, allowing him to go to Tom.

 

Deacon walked to the two men as well. They pointed back at Nora and argued some, not that that surprised her. None of them wanted her to go, none of them knew what it could do to the baby, but no one was about to keep her away, either. 

 

She left the men to their plans. 

 

#

 

Arthur stood in the small house, surveying their troops.

 

So many bodies stood in the small space, shoulder to shoulder. Brotherhood, Railroad, Minutemen, random friends of Nora. The mercenary, the synth, Nick, the ghoul from Goodneighbor. They’d all come to help.

 

His soldiers fidgeted, but their training kept them steady. The Railroad looked no more comfortable. Only the ghoul smiled like he’d never had more fun, though Arthur suspect that was due more to chems than circumstance.

 

“An Elder, a Valutie, and a bunch of riff raff walk into a bar,” Nick said as he smoked.

 

“And what happens, sunshine?” Hancock sauntered through the bodies like they weren’t packed together.

 

“Hell if I know, but the Institute doesn’t have a clue what’s coming for them.”

 

The uneasy chuckle that ran through the group quickly turned into a full laugh. Nothing like a little foolish humor to pull together a group.

 

Well, that and a hopeless mission.

 

Bring it on.

 

 

#

 

Nora stood over Shaun. He’d grown even more pale, and the hospital bed he laid in beeped and whirred as it fought to keep him alive.

 

“Just tell me your password, Shaun. I want to sound an evacuation, to get as many of your people as possible out.”

 

He laughed, a wet sound, before he fell into a coughing fit. Blood spots remained on the sleeve of his shirt. “Do you plan to start over?”

 

“What?”

 

“This new family you want to create. You think I wouldn’t know? You were scanned on each return visit. I knew before you knew, I bet. Still, I was curious. Would you love this new child? Would you choose it over me?” Shaun’s eyes darted between Nora and Arthur. “I suppose I have my answer, don’t I?”

 

“There was no choice, Shaun. I couldn’t let you keep doing what you’re doing. It’s wrong, and fuck, I’m responsible for it. That’s all this is.”

 

“Really, Mother? You’re not even a little happy at the idea that you’re going to get to try this all again? Don’t lie to me, I don’t have much time left.”

 

“I didn’t want this.”

 

“Maybe not, but you have it, now. Go on, mother. Destroy everything I’ve built and kill me. Then run off to your second family and pretend you won’t lose it, too.” Shaun shuddered, then whispered his password.

 

Arthur pressed his hand to Nora’s back to get her moving, but her feet wouldn’t budge. Her son laid there, dying. He wouldn’t leave, she knew it, and even if he did he’d die. How could she leave him? How could she leave him and then go one to birth another child?

 

What gave her that right?

 

“He made his choice. This isn’t your fault, Nora. He was twisted by those who raised him, and then he made his choice. Come on, let’s finish this.”

 

She nodded. Right. Had to keep moving forward. No other choice.

 

They set the evacuation and opened the doors blocking their path. By the time they reached the reactor, Dez already stood there, Deacon by her side.

 

The bomb was wired into the console, and Dez stood back. “It’s set. Tom will relay us out to a safe distance, and we’ll detonate from there.”

 

Nora turned around, setting her hands on Arthur’s chest. “You ready for this?”

 

He nodded, jaw tight. “Ready.”

 

“You help me push that button, then you owe me a drink.”

 

He pressed his forehead against hers. “I have to go tomorrow.”

 

“So I get one night. We’ll make the best of it.”

 

He kissed her. She expected passion and need, but it was soft, gentle. “I love you, Nora. Tell me you love me, too.”

 

“Demanding man. I love you, too.”

 

He nodded, then took a step back, looking at Dez. “Ready.”

 

“Everyone hold on. Relaying now.” Tom’s voice filling the room.

 

The room went white. Nora blinked, and she was on the top of the Mass Fusion building. They’d made it. No casualties, no failures, nothing. They’d won, finally.

 

The button stood open, ready, on the railing.

 

“Come on, Arthur. You have to help me push it.” She turned around, her grin sliding off her lips.

 

Where was he? Her vision combed through the people on the roof. No Arthur.

 

“Where’s Arthur?” Her voice cracked even as she spoke, as the answer was clear. He wasn’t there with them.

 

Danse began tearing through the people, as if Arthur could have been hidden behind someone. “Where is Maxson? Did anyone see him?”

 

Tom walked forward, face unusually somber. “Maxson’s relay malfunctioned. He’s didn’t make it.”

 

Dez walk toward the button. “I’m sorry, but we have to do this.”

 

Nora pulled her weapon and aimed it at Dez. “Don’t make me do this. You can’t. He could still be in there.”

 

“Even if he were, we couldn’t get to him. And if we let the Institute go, this was all for nothing. You knew him, you know this is an easy choice.”

 

“You can’t. He can’t be gone.”

 

Deacon moved quickly, pulling the gun from her hands and wrapping his arms around her. “Do it,” he snapped to Dez.

 

She slammed her fist down on the button, and white filled the sky.

 

Deacon pulled Nora against him as she sobbed. He leaned in and whispered into her ear.

 

Her knees gave out.


	33. Chapter 33

_One year later_

 

Nora sat across from Nick, her feet up on the chair beside him.

 

He flicked his unlit cigarette as if ash had gathered on the end. It had been one of the many adjustments when she’d had the baby. If he wanted to live there, he couldn’t smoke.

 

So he still carried the cigarette, and would put it between his lips, flick it, but he never lit them.

 

“You look tired, Doll.”

 

She smiled. “You know how it is. Babies never sleep, at least not for more than an hour or two a time. I think he’s teething. Or maybe just an asshole.”

 

Nick laughed. “Just like his father. He looks like Arthur, you know. Boy will be a handful when he gets old enough. Have you thought about what you’ll tell him? Will he know where he comes from?”

 

“Yeah, I have. He’ll know. I couldn’t keep something like that from him, it wouldn’t be fair.”

 

“And if he decides to run off and take his place as the last Maxson? What then?”

 

“Then I guess he’ll break my heart, but all boys do that to their mothers eventually.”

 

“Want me to take a shift with him tonight? You look like you could use the rest. Those bags under your eyes aren’t doing anyone any favors, and I heard you shot Sturges’ generator.”

 

“He turned it on while the baby was napping. He deserved it.”

 

“I’m serious. I can handle the baby for a night. New parents deserve a night off now and then.”

 

A sound behind her caught her attention. Nora turned around and smiled as Arthur walked up, their son, Owyn, in his arms. “I think Uncle Nick can handle an evening, and I’d love to have you to myself for the night.”

 

He walked over and handed the infant off to Nick, who cradled him in his good arm. Owyn settled, as he always did, soothed by the gentle whirs of Nick’s machinery. They had all settled into a happy little family in Sanctuary, and without the threats looming, they could relax. The Brotherhood had left, as per their agreement, and the Institute was gone. The railroad showed up now and then, and who would have ever guessed it, but Tom and Arthur became good friends. Then again, when you agree to help someone fake their death, that tends to build bonds.

 

Arthur took Nora’s hand and pulled her up and out of the chair, against his chest. He dropped his head down and kissed her, the same way he always did, like it might be the last time and he planned to make it last forever. “How’d I get so lucky?”

 

Nora grinned. “You were just smart enough to crash downwind of me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me through this long piece. I appreciate all the feedback and comments so much, I can't even explain what it means to me to get to talk to you all. 
> 
> :)


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